Harry Potter and Dumbledore's Gift
by Piodasses
Summary: Dumbledore realizes his folly when Snape is about to kill him. He casts powerful arcane magic so that no matter what happens after his death, Harry Potter will protect Hogwarts from all foes. Voldemort wins and becomes 'the Monarch' but Harry fights on.
1. Prologue

**Author's Notes**:

1. Sincere apologies for delay with Serpents in Solitude. University and job-hunt happened. Things have slowed down temporarily and I intend to continue writing again. That story will be picked up when I feel moderately happy with the way I'm writing.

2. This story is inspired by a book I read a while ago, although the connection is very minor. 'Dumbledore's gift' is a magic that is derived from The Quickening series by Fiona McIntosh. But other than this particular magic itself, there is no other link to the story.

3. I enjoy reading reviews, even if I don't reply as swiftly or as much as I should.

4. Enjoy.

**Prologue - Dumbledore****'****s Gift**

Harry Potter finished the bottle of brandy, willing for the welcome easing of consciousness that only alcohol can induce. He sighed blissfully when his mind lightened and closed his eyes. Unfortunately, the moment was not to last.

"_You -- murderer!"_

His eyes flashed open, bloodshot and full of pain, and he grabbed a new bottle, opened it quickly and swallowed a mouthful, trying to beat the onslaught of painful memories. But try as hard as he might, hateful images swirled into life in his mind.

"_For the murder of Albus Dumbledore, you are hereby being condemned to…"_

The condemning words of Rufus Scrimgeour, the gloating smirk of Severus Snape, the disbelief in the eyes of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army… it was all too much for him to take at the same time. It had been so, many years ago, and so it was now. What made it worse for him was to see several of his closest friends standing among those who cursed him. He turned to the alcohol to make it easier to bear.

"_Ron - Hermione - Remus - why?" _

His tears fell on deaf ears. After all, he had confessed under Veritaserum, hadn't he? What more did they need to cast aside years of friendship? What more had they ever needed to keep themselves from questioning the infallibility of magic.

Voldemort had possessed him during that critical moment. Harry had tried very hard to resist, to fight back, to regain control of himself. But the grief from Dumbledore's death, the anger at Snape, was too much for him to handle. He couldn't clear his mind and fell prey to the lurking hunter. His insides had squirmed with horror as he heard his own voice say:

"_I killed Dumbledore with my own hands, as I will kill Voldemort. After all, this world isn'__t big enough for three powerful lords. These fools will always follow me because to them I can do no wrong."_

Morale had been destroyed absolutely when two bastions of light were lost to death and darkness. Harry took another large mouthful of the strong liquid, letting it pour down his throat and savoring the warmth and lightheadedness it brought, however temporary.

He had been standing underneath his Invisibility Cloak, petrified into immobility by the Headmaster of Hogwarts, as he died at the hands of one he had always trusted. Harry clutched his head, trying to forget the final look of realization, as it crept into Dumbledore's face that Snape was not his man, perhaps never had been, and with disappointment, he turned to the invisible Harry Potter.

Harry would undo the next moments if he could but he had been powerless. Dumbledore's eyes bored down on him, unleashing a magic upon him that he was forced to accept and his head burnt, and drawing attention to Snape of his presence, but the Headmaster had but a single mission. Saving Harry Potter was not it.

"_Remember my last, Harry Potter. This curse will not release you until Hogwarts is secured from all its foes."_

Harry hadn't understood what those words meant, but he didn't have much time to wonder either. He was free and Snape knew he was there. The duel was very brief for Harry Potter was weakened and Snape was the better trained of the two.

"_You -- murderer!"_

Harry woke up to the agonizing screams. He didn't know who all were yelling. All he could recall was Voldemort taking possession of his body during his trial. He tried to convince his former friends, he tried to convince any who would listen, but all he got was curses in return.

He had been taken to Azkaban.

Shivering, Harry swallowed several mouthfuls of the brandy in one flow, and yet couldn't fight the dreadful chill that attacked his body every time he recalled that foul place. On his first night in Azkaban, Harry Potter cried. On his second night, he banged his head repeatedly against the iron bars. On his third night, he leaned back, surrendering himself to his fate.

He didn't move much after that.

Every week, a guard would come to cast a mild healing charm on the prisoners to prolong their agony for yet another week, and another, and so on. Harry Potter was no exception. He rarely received any visitors, only Dementors, to slowly poison his soul, and prison guards, to keep that poison at its most painful yet non lethal level.

But he did receive visitors too.

"_Did you do it?"_

He looked at the face, the beautiful face, filled with anguish and horror, at his suffering. He hated himself for being the cause for her journey to such a foul place. Why didn't anyone stop her? Why would anyone allow such a gentle person to be subjected to such an ordeal?

"_Stop! Please__ stop! Just one word!"_

He honestly didn't know if he had been thinking or speaking out loud. Honestly, things didn't make much difference after spending any length of time in Azkaban. He had spent three years. The guards kept celebrating his birthdays with ample presents of Crucios and Diffindos. That is another reason he didn't want her to be there, to see him for what he had become and not remember him for who he was, her knight in shining armor. The boy who had loved her.

"_Please, Harry… don'__t do this to me…"_

She had changed, he noticed. The years hadn't been kind to her. Her face no longer held the innocence and softness it once did. It was filled with a toughness that only battle could bring. It held a hardness he had seen only once before - in Albus Dumbledore. His heart screamed. Dumbledore should not have died! He could have saved Dumbledore. If only he hadn't been petrified, Harry would have saved Dumbledore, even if it meant jumping in front of the old man and take Snape's curse.

But Dumbledore was gone and nothing would bring him back, nothing. Suddenly, Harry realized it. Without Dumbledore, there was no Harry Potter. Everything he had achieved, everything he had ever wanted to achieve, was solely because of his Headmaster. Without him, there was no Harry Potter, only a freak that deserved to be caged.

"_I don'__t know how to ask for your forgiveness, I know I will never forgive myself. I… I wish I had been more courageous and fought for you earlier… I wish I wasn__'__t so late… Goodbye, Harry, I never stopped loving you either…"_

Goodbye? Harry didn't understand. He reached for her. For one final touch, to bask in her beauty, and for a fleeting moment their fingers touched, before she withdrew and ran away in grief.

By then Harry's bottle was finished again. He got up. The memories of Azkaban were never pretty. They affected him very badly. In retrospect, they also allowed him to review those days with more clarity, to understand the significance of those words. She believed he was dying and had come to make her peace with him, only to realize the gravity of the world's errors.

He threw the bottle aside, and glanced at the floor. There were several empty bottles there - the signs of his having lived in that tiny apartment for the past week. He would have to leave soon, find a new hideout, be on the run. There was never a moment of peace for him. If he didn't take care, there was no saying what fearsome effect Dumbledore's Curse would have on him next.

Somehow, Harry had to end the curse before it took more lives.

"_Remember my last, Harry Potter. This curse will not release you until Hogwarts is secured from all its foes."_

Harry cursed Dumbledore for throwing such a burden on him. The old man wouldn't stop meddling with his life even from beyond the grave. Harry faltered suddenly. His hands froze and he sat down in sudden surprise. The last of the memories replayed in his mind again.

"Without Dumbledore, there is no Harry Potter," he repeated his own words from Azkaban. But Dumbledore wasn't truly gone. His last gift to Harry Potter still remained. "You meddling old bastard!" he yelled, throwing the remaining bottles of alcohol to the wall, shattering the glass into smithereens.

It had been barely a week after her visit. Death Eaters had appeared. They had come to specifically escort Harry Potter to his next great adventure in death. Harry couldn't recall who all were there but knew for certain that Rodolphus Lestrange, Avery and Marcus Flint were present. Rodolphus tortured Harry to his heart's content with the Cruciatus Curse. Avery gave him a more physical treatment. And Marcus Flint.

Flint was the one to raise his wand at the very end, a gleeful smirk on his face, as he said those dreadful words.

"_Avada Kedavra."_

Harry shut his eyes suddenly. The flash of green light was still extremely disconcerting. He knew death was upon him, he even welcomed it whole heartedly. The next adventure could hardly be as torturous as his present one. With a smile on his face, Harry awaited the green light's onslaught and the subsequent oblivion.

But he hadn't expected the pain. He screamed as if a searing hot blade was slicing his body in half, while keeping him alive. The pain was unbearable. Even the Cruciatus seemed like a mere feather's touch against it. He had no idea what was causing it or when it would stop.

But as suddenly as it had come, the pain left and Harry opened his eyes.

He gave a dry chuckle on recalling the surprise and confusion he had first felt on finding himself alive and within the familiar yet dreadful prison. Funnier was still the fact that there was a corpse in front of him - someone had died, despite the curse hitting him straight on. But he should have been dead too. In fact, by the very evidence of his eyes, he knew he should have been dead. Harry Potter lay on the ground, dead.

But somehow, it wasn't so. Dumbledore's last gift had come into play at last, unleashing its terrible power, claiming Harry's soul for itself.

Harry pushed aside several broken shards of glass and faced the mirror. Brown eyes stared back where once there were green, and the face of Marcus Flint stared back relentlessly.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 - The Desolation of Britain**

Diagon Alley was in shambles. The street, which was once the very embodiment of vibrant life, now lay devoid of any signs of life. There was only death. Corpses could still be seen in corners, evidence of the final cataclysmic battle in which Lord Voldemort became the undisputed Monarch of Britain. The shops were still there, rebuilt, remade. After all, Voldemort had to rule something.

Harry entered a book shop. The owner stiffened and raised his wand at him.

"Only bearers of the Mark are allowed entry unescorted," the old man said. There was a hint of sadness in his voice, no doubt, things would have been different in his ideal world.

Harry shrugged, and bared his left sleeve, clearly displaying the Dark Mark on Marcus Flint's arm. "I am Marcus Flint, old fool."

The man paled and hastily lowered his wand. "Master Flint, sir. Please come in, what a delightful pleasure."

Harry turned his cool gaze upon the man and proceeded inside. He browsed through the section on soul magic, trying to find anything that might hold clues on his new condition. But there was nothing there. Nothing, at all, that would be helpful.

"Can I help you with something, Master Flint?"

Harry frowned, trying to think how a Death Eater would respond to such an offer. Instantly, a picture of Lucius Malfoy swam in his mind.

"_Desist, you peasant. Cease this unsightly natt__ering and leave me be."_

Harry's frown deepened. That was not a memory he himself had witnessed before. He managed to hold back his shock on realizing that it was actually Marcus Flint's memory.

"Desist, you peasant. Cease this unsightly nattering and leave me be."

The shopkeeper quailed and rushed away. For a moment, Harry felt guilty, but the feeling passed as quickly as it came. He had been punished for enough undeserved guilt already. He picked up a newspaper and his eyes nearly popped out in disbelief. Only three years had passed since his imprisonment. Three years, for what seemed like an eternity of suffering. Had Voldemort achieved so much in so short a time? The magical world must have capitulated very quickly after Harry Potter supposedly murdered Albus Dumbledore.

But what about the Order of the Phoenix? Surely, they would have fought back. Harry suppressed the sudden onslaught of bitterness he felt at recalling his former friends. Sometimes, he wondered why he didn't simply give up and retreat to a life of seclusion, away from all the pain.

"_I wish I wasn'__t so late… Goodbye, Harry, I never stopped loving you either…"_

He knew why, he had to see Ginny Weasley one last time. He had to find out from her what happened after his trial. What had she been so late for?

"_I never stopped loving you either…"_

Then, why hadn't she voiced it. Why did it take three long years for her to come? A single word of support would have made a world of difference to him. The need to speak to Ginny was becoming more of an addiction than alcohol for him. Harry read the headline.

_Hogwarts Rebels Hold Firm._

Harry read the article with interest. The wards of Hogwarts were yet to fall, but it was besieged.

_Despite the overwhelming defeat of the Defenders of Hogwarts in the Second Battle of Hogsmeade, which saw the rebel forces being crushed by a horde of giants and trolls, the castle still holds firmly against what they must know is an inevitable certainty. Among the deceased were the rebels__'__ last remaining warriors of renown - Alastor Moody, Charlie Weasley and Rubeus Hagrid. However, the wards of the castle seem to have passed on to yet another traitor to the Monarch._

_The new Undesirable Number 1, Ginevra Weasley, has persisted in criminal activities and treason against the Monarch of Great Britain. The last surviving member of the disgraced family, Ginevra is most notorious for the murder of the Monarch__'__s Chief Advisor Severus Snape in a one-on-one duel, shortly after breaking into Azkaban. _

Harry froze. He let go of the paper. The Weasleys were all dead, except Ginny. Oddly, despite their eventual treatment of him, Harry felt a sense of loss. They were good people, who were deluded by the most powerful wizard of their times into believing Harry was guilty. After all, they had heard his confession under Veritaserum. Would he himself have been unable to let go of such evidence?

"_I never stopped loving you either…"_

Harry screamed in frustration. He had to meet Ginny Weasley. But how could he? He was a Death Eater. No, not just any Death Eater. He was the Death Eater who had killed Harry Potter. He couldn't simply barge into Hogwarts and ask the witch what she had meant by those words.

"Are you all right, Master Flint?" the bookstore owner asked, but the concern in his voice seemed rather strained, as if a negative answer would be more well received.

Harry drew himself up and looked at the man. Another fleeting memory surged to the top of his mind.

"_I am suspicious of the new proprietor of Flourish and Botts."_

"_Old__ Elphias Dodge? You must be truly getting old, Rabastan. Old Elphias is an open book. There is no deceit in him. What do you think, Rodolphus?"_

"_I am with Rabastan, Avery. But there is no evidence yet. It won'__t do to take unfounded accusations to the Monarch."_

"_Indeed not. Flint, you are awfully quiet."_

"_Dodge used to be thick with the Weasley twins. I do not know if it was simply because they had shops next to each other or something more."_

Harry's heart raced. It was undeniable, Flint's memories were accessible to him. Elphias Dodge, wasn't that the name of one of the Order members? The opportunity was too good.

"I am not all right. Nothing is right. But it soon will be," said Harry, grudgingly accepting the destiny placed upon him by Albus Dumbledore. Images of the atrocious deeds committed by Death Eaters were in his mind. They had to be brought to task. "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

Dodge balked and took a step back in fear. His face was pale, and he was shaking with anger and fear. "Where - Where did you hear those words?"

But before Harry could respond, he felt a searing pain in his left arm, and gasped. It was the Dark Mark. He was being summoned by the Monarch. Harry turned to the storekeeper, who had raised his wand at him.

"Put that down, you fool. Remember my words," he said ominously. "Dumbledore is not as gone as you all think. He is dead, yes, but he still fights through strange and powerful weapons."

Without another word, Harry swept out of the store. He waited several seconds for memories on where to go to come to his mind. Then, with a distinctly Flint-like sneer, Harry Potter apparated to the Castle of the Monarch, The Serpentine Tower.

His insides squirming, wondering whether he had been detected, or would be detected, Harry gradually walked the long path. He marveled the construction. It was nothing as foul as the name suggested. It was a grand and majestic castle, although it paled in comparison to Hogwarts. But it was located in a more central part of the country, and the weather was much more pleasant.

Harry walked inside and bowed at the entrance. The Monarch was sitting at the far end. Few were allowed to get closer to him. Harry squinted his eyes but couldn't see him very well. Fifty paces, that was the closest anyone was permitted to come to the Monarch.

"Marcus Flint, my faithful servant."

The Monarch's voice was loud, though it wasn't raised. It pierced through Harry almost as sharply as it had about five years ago when he had risen from a cauldron. Not much had changed about the man except the new title he had acquired for himself.

Harry bowed deeper, avoiding eye contact completely.

"You have taken care of a rather irksome affair for me," the Monarch continued. "Despite being locked in Azkaban, Harry Potter was a potential threat. I am most pleased."

Harry pretended to ponder, while trying to force his mind to bring up Flint's memories for an acceptable response.

"I live to serve, My Lord," Harry said, stifling his disgust at the very bottom of his mind.

"Indeed. I have a reward for you." The Monarch raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

Harry nearly jumped, thinking the Monarch was casting a curse on him. But instead, he heard a swooshing sound accompanied by a young girl's screams. He forced himself to remain calm when he recognized the person that had been summoned, not gently, from an inner chamber.

"You foul monster!"

"Silence." The Monarch's very word was laced with magic and Gabrielle Delacour was unable to hear her own voice afterwards. "This is your reward, Flint. A young unbroken maiden of veela descent. You may do as you please with her." He waved his hand in a sign of dismissal.

Harry bowed again. He walked to Gabrielle, hoping he could somehow convey the message that he didn't intend to hurt her. But he knew that was impossible. So, he had no option but to use his magic to move the girl with him. He made for Flint's home, which was as large as any of Voldemort's faithful Death Eaters could expect following his rise to ascension as the Monarch.

Harry observed Gabrielle in length. She was young and spirited. He held back his disgust at the memory of what Flint had done to young and spirited girls in the past. He frowned, trying to recall her age. She was about eight during the Triwizard Tournament. So, she couldn't be more than thirteen at the moment.

Harry turned aside. She was yet another innocent who would have suffered under the tyranny of one madman. He was confused. He had borne the brunt of the world's apathy. Then, why did he still fight for them? Why did he still want to be their Savior, especially when none would thank him for it? To the world, Harry Potter was dead. What did he stand to gain by saving them? Was it even within his ability to do so, with his below average education, despite his uncanny ability to cheat death?

"_It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."_

"Stop that!" Harry yelled to the ghosts in his own mind. He heard something behind him and saw Gabrielle trembling in fear. He took a deep breath, recalling the events from his fourth year in Hogwarts. He had stayed behind to carry the very girl before his eyes back to the surface from beneath the lake. Was he still the same man? Did he still have the same moral fiber to give up his own task and stay behind for others, at whatever cost?

Harry poured a glass of water for himself and drank it. Then clearly, so Gabrielle could see there was no deceit, he poured another glass of water and placed it near her lips, letting her drink it. He wasn't ready to untie her yet. She would definitely be a fair handful, and he had too much on his mind.

What was the right thing to do? Fight the Monarch? Defend Hogwarts? Protect the innocents?

But why should he, when all he received in return from the world was nothing but derision and pain. The cold of Azkaban memories assaulted him again and he started trembling. No, the world had done nothing to merit his services.

"_I wish I had been more courageous and fought for you earlier… I wish I wasn'__t so late…"_

He threw his glass against the wall in frustration, shattering it into pieces. Water was insufficient. He needed more brandy. He noticed the fear in Gabrielle's eyes as he drank a large mouthful of the strong liquor, and repressed the urge to scream at her that she had nothing to fear from him.

Had Ginny really fought for him, despite being late? Why hadn't she been more explicit? Harry grabbed his head in his hands. He was confused. If only there had been one definite indicator that Ginny had been firmly behind him, the choice would be so easy.

"_Goodbye, Harry, I never stopped loving you either…"_

She had come to Azkaban. She had given him a chance to explain despite his confession under Veritaserum. Then, she accepted his words over the false confession. She had believed him. But even more so, despite her misgivings, she never stopped loving him.

"What should I do? What is the right choice?" he said out loud to himself.

"… _if the time__ should come when you have to make a choice between__ what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."_

"_Kill the spare."_

"_Not __Harry!"_

"_Remember Cedric Diggory."_

_"Not Harry!"_

"_Severus…"_

_"Not Harry!"_

"… _I never stopped loving you either…"_

"Remember Cedric Diggory," he whispered, not noticing the surprise in Gabrielle's face.

Harry stood up, a fiery resolve in his heart. He didn't fight for the world. He owed nothing to them. He would fight for himself. Lord Voldemort had crossed his path too many times, had hurt too many people, had killed nearly everyone he loved. Even if he had to face him and his armies all alone, Harry Potter would take the battle to the Monarch.

But was he truly alone? Didn't Ginny still live and control Hogwarts? Didn't she say she never stopped loving him?

Harry turned to Gabrielle, who looked at him with fear. She looked so small and innocent, Harry couldn't help but smile.

"I want you to listen to me carefully," said Harry. "I know you will not believe me at first, but I mean you no harm. I am going to take you to Hogwarts." He broke the silencing charm on her.

"Never!" Gabrielle screeched. "I will never take you to Hogwarts! I will never betray them!"

Harry grinned at her spirit and silenced her again. "Listen kid." Gabrielle drew herself angrily at being called a kid, despite her binds. "I am not asking you to take me anywhere." Why should he? Hogwarts was his home. "We can do this the hard way, but that will inconvenience you more than me. So do you want to walk or be carried with magic?"

Harry broke the silencing charm again.

"I will never betray Hogwarts!"

"Hard way, it is." Harry silenced her again. He grabbed her hand and apparated to just outside the perimeter of Hogwarts. His heart missed a beat when he saw the unmistakable form of Bellatrix Lestrange not more than a hundred feet away, overseeing several goblins. Hogwarts was indeed besieged.

Harry raised a finger to his lips urgently at Gabrielle, forgetting that she was unable to speak anyway. Slowly, he grabbed the girl again and disapparated to a much distant place. It wasn't going to be easy. He needed a real plan. The answer was so simple that Harry was amazed he didn't think of it sooner.

"We're going to the Shrieking Shack," he announced to a still silent and tied up Gabrielle.

Soon, he was climbing up the secret passage, after pressing the knot on the base of the Whomping Willow. He pulled Gabrielle up. Then, he turned around and smiled. He was home.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - The Lady of Hogwarts**

The Wards of Hogwarts were built by ancient magic. When Albus Dumbledore died, they passed into the hands of Minerva McGonagall, and after her death, to those of Charlie Weasley, and finally, they came to Ginny Weasley. The young witch, barely nineteen years of age, couldn't have been more surprised by it. The other remaining Defenders had believed it would pass into the more than capable hands of Filius Flitwick or the brave Neville Longbottom.

But Hogwarts is sentient, so it is said. It has a mind of its own, to know what is best for itself and the children that seek shelter within her domain.

Ginny was disturbed. This had never happened before. The rupture in the wards was a terrible development. If more were to occur, if they weren't able to intercept the trespassers in time again, then they might as well give up the struggle. But what was bothering her most was that the rupture wasn't from the outside. Nor was it from the inside. It was as if Hogwarts herself opened up to the Death Eater.

They had checked the secret passages using the Marauder's Map. Ginny shuddered, pushing aside the memories and dark thoughts that came associated with the previous owner of the map. No, they had checked, and the wards extended all over them. There was simply no other alternative.

Hogwarts had welcomed Marcus Flint.

It could have been because of Gabrielle, Ginny decided. Marcus Flint's loyalties were not to be questioned. He was as loyal a Death Eater as any. It was good fortune that Ginny had sensed the rupture in time and had been able to catch the trespasser before any damage could be inflicted.

But something about the whole incident bothered her tremendously. Why would Flint dare such a thing alone? Especially, when that madwoman Bellatrix Lestrange was so nearby. It simply didn't add up. Ginny wondered if there was indeed something in Gabrielle's heartfelt protests that Flint didn't mean any harm.

Ginny shuddered. That could explain why the wards opened up. Perhaps Flint didn't mean any harm. But she steeled herself. He was a Death Eater. Flint had killed many. From the experience of Gabrielle, he hadn't hurt her, true, but could the same be said of others?

She was worried. Their numbers were running thin, and most of them were young children, whom she couldn't conscientiously allow to fight. She was beginning to wonder if it was time to consider the amnesty proposal of the Monarch.

Her jaws clenched in disgust. "Never!" she breathed out. The memory of Harry Potter, lying in his dark cell, a raving mind in a broken body, and yet confessing his love for her, was enough to hold her back. She would fight to her very last breath.

But then she faltered. Could she fight to the last breath of all the young children whose lives were so literally in her hands?

Flitwick wanted her to consider the amnesty proposal. She didn't blame him for that. The Monarch's conditions were simple, and in return there would be no bloodshed. However, it would mean that Voldemort's conquest over Britain would be complete. He would be the paramount power. With Hogwarts in his clutches, Voldemort would be unstoppable. With his hidden horcruxes, he would be indestructible.

No, Ginny couldn't doom the world to an everlasting reign of darkness. Hogwarts had to remain stubbornly true to the light. Even if it led to its destruction.

_What would Harry Potter do?_

That was her talisman, her guide in moments of doubt and confusion. And the answer, as always, was the same. He would fight on. So would she. Ginny Weasley, the Lady of Hogwarts, would fight on.

A house elf came to her presence.

"The prisoner is awake, Mistress Ginny."

"Thanks, Winky," said Ginny politely and got up. She walked to a mirror and gazed at herself.

"_She has changed. The years haven'__t been kind to her. Her face no longer holds the innocence and softness it once did. It is filled with a toughness that only battle can bring. It holds a hardness I have seen only once before - in Albus Dumbledore."_

Harry Potter's raving words fell in her ears, as it always did every time she looked into the mirror. He was so correct. She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. Her hair was cut to shoulder length and fell freely. If she were true to herself, she looked better like that, without very long hair. But thoughts of beauty and elegance were far from her mind. Nowadays, she took special care in dressing herself only to intimidate her enemies.

So would she do now. She pulled her hair back, making a small bun, but letting strands of dark red fall around her ears. Pulling out her comfortable cardigan, she stripped out of her casual robes. She sighed on seeing the scars that disfigured her body. Not that it mattered, she decided, as none would see it except for her. She wore a pale white robe, that would counter the deep shade of her hair. In her neck was a simple silver chain, with a pendant of a phoenix with wings outstretched.

She picked herself up, her jaws set, and looked at the mirror. Truth be told, she intimidated herself at times. Where was the naïve little girl who hid behind her father to escape the wrath of her mother? Where was the little girl who foolishly trusted dark artifacts? Where was the young girl who fell in love with the noblest man of their times?

War and Voldemort. Ginny knew exactly what had happened to her. She had buried too many family members, too many friends, often alone. She had shed too many tears and had none left. None, except for one raven haired boy, who, despite losing his sanity to betrayal and terror, still managed to confess his love for her.

Ginny walked out of her chambers. She was met with Filius Flitwick on the way.

"Do you think it is wise to have Miss Delacour present when we interrogate the prisoner?" asked Flitwick curiously. He was a wise and experienced man. But he was a Ravenclaw, and the role of an advisor was what he was best suited to, and he knew it well. Therefore, he had little trouble in swallowing any pride that might have protested against the wards of Hogwarts choosing this young witch before him.

"Her account does not tally with what we have assumed of Flint's intentions," said Ginny plainly. "And Madam Pomfrey has failed to find any spells on her, other than the binding and silencing ones. I want to know why Hogwarts allowed Marcus Flint to enter the wards. It is a security breach we need to address, Filius."

"Of course, Ginny." Flitwick walked silently for a few moments. "Neville has sent word. He has established contact with Remus Lupin's werewolf pack, and is trying to convince them to join us."

Ginny nodded.

"He also enquired about your wellbeing."

Ginny tried hard not to sigh in frustration. "His continuous attempts at winning me are beginning to tire me, Filius. We do not have time for such frivolous things."

Filius Flitwick sighed. "It is sad to hear a maiden in the spring of her beauty call love and matters of the heart as frivolous."

"What choice do I have?" Ginny asked sadly. "So much depends on me now."

"Perhaps -"

"No, Filius!" Ginny said forcefully. "I will not hand over Hogwarts to the Monarch!"

Flitwick sighed again. "I understand and appreciate your reasons, indeed I support them. But a time will come, my child, when we are faced with the unpleasant and undeniable reality that we have lost. When Hogwarts finally falls, the question we will face is - how many of its inhabitants' lives may be saved."

"When Hogwarts finally falls, it will be because Ginny Weasley is no longer able to hold its wards," Ginny gritted her teeth in frustration. She opened the door that led to the room in the dungeons where their prisoner was held.

"When I woke up, my first thought was - potions classroom? How fitting," the prisoner said, when his captors entered. "After all -" he froze when he saw the Lady of Hogwarts.

Ginny stared at the Death Eater coldly. She was slightly surprised by the look in his eyes - happiness, desire and affection, but she put it down to a trick to lower her defences. Ginny looked at him coldly. "What are your intentions, Death Eater? Why have you come to Hogwarts?" To her surprise, the man grimaced slightly, as if taken aback by her tone, or words.

"The rumors do not do any justice to reality," Flint whispered. "The Lady of Hogwarts is an avatar of beauty, majesty and power. Perhaps, the purpose of my visit was solely to set my eyes on you."

Ginny's temper flared. "How dare you!" The Death Eater was clearly up to some tricks. She raised her wand. "I will not hesitate in using any means necessary to get answers from you!"

"So, this is what the much acclaimed Order of the Phoenix has fallen to," the Death Eater had the audacity to sound disappointed. "What would Dumbledore say to his successors torturing their prisoners?"

"You have the galls to say that!" Ginny hissed. "How many of my friends and family members have you and that foul beast you call master tortured into a fate much worse than death? Remember Hermione Granger?" She took a deep breath. "No, Marcus Flint. I will not torture you. But I will cast a spell that will prevent you from lying to me." Ginny smiled evilly. "And another spell that will force you to answer any question I ask."

"Why not simply use Veritaserum?" asked Flint.

Ginny's eyes darkened. There was an almost haunted aura to them. "The truth potion is fallible. I do not trust it. Even these spells perhaps can be beaten. But still…" She turned to Flitwick. "Filius, will you cast the spells?"

She walked to the door and led Gabrielle Delacour inside.

"Please, Ginny," Gabrielle pleaded again. "I don't know why but Flint honestly wasn't helping the Monarch. I know what I saw. He avoided Bellatrix Lestrange and -"

"Gabrielle," Ginny said sharply. "We're interrogating a prisoner. You know better than to ramble on during such moments."

"Curtailing free speech as well," Flint muttered. "Not much different from simply casting a silencio like the Monarch does, is it?"

Ginny turned sharply at Flint. She couldn't explain why, but there was something extremely infuriating about the man. Something that made him very amused by her reactions. She took a step closer and sat down on the chair directly facing him. Their bodies were only a few feet apart.

Flint took a deep breath. "So close," he whispered painfully. "Yet, so far." He struggled against his binds, as if trying to reach for the woman before him, but after a few unsuccessful attempts, gave up.

"So, Death Eater, what is your name?" Flitwick posed a test question.

"The Death Eater before you is Marcus Flint," Flint said.

Flitwick nodded. "It's working. That was a truthful response."

Ginny nodded. "How did you manage to bypass the wards of Hogwarts?" She was observing Flint's reactions. There seemed to be no hesitation in his response.

"I faced a barrier - the wards, perhaps - and asked Hogwarts to let me in," he said calmly.

Ginny froze. It couldn't have been that simple. She turned to Flitwick, who seemed equally stunned.

"There's no lie!" Flitwick squeaked.

Ginny took a deep breath. "Why have you come?"

Marcus Flint grinned insolently. "To ensure the safe return of Gabrielle Delacour and to set my eyes on the beauty of Ginevra Weasley."

Ginny raised her hand, ready to slap the insolent man, but froze. There was no deceit in his eyes. He was simply gazing at her - almost hungrily - but not one merely of lust. There was a yearning in his eyes that disturbed Ginny. She lowered her hand slowly.

"Why have you returned Gabrielle Delacour? Why didn't you do what you usually do to your prisoners?"

The man looked at her sadly. "I returned her because she is an innocent child. As for your second question, you know nothing about me, so don't ask such stupid questions."

Ginny was shocked. The prisoner was rebuking her. Not only that, there was something in his voice that actually made her feel thoroughly chastised. She shook herself.

"I'll ask again. What do you want with Hogwarts?" The prisoner's eyes closed. When it opened, Ginny was shocked by the intensity in them. Flint was holding her gaze with such force that Ginny began to feel herself losing within. She shook herself again. "What do you want with Hogwarts?"

"Only one thing," his voice was eerily cold and quiet, and Ginny didn't need any spells to know he was being absolutely truthful, "To secure Hogwarts from its foes."

Ginny turned to Flitwick in disbelief. The old man gazed at her, he himself was disturbed. She slowly stood up. "Do you mean any harm to those in Hogwarts?"

"Not to those who mean me none," said Flint. "Not to the truly innocent, like Gabrielle. Not to you. Never to you."

Ginny was startled by the tenderness with which Flint said 'you' and turned away. She saw Gabrielle smirking at her triumphantly. She stifled her irritation at the girl taking the Death Eater's side. Instantly, she whirled around.

"Are you loyal to the Monarch?"

"No." Flint spat viciously. "I have never been loyal to that bastard. I will see him punished for his crimes, if it's the last thing I do."

Ginny stared at the man's resolve for a long time. She was confused. Marcus Flint was a well known Death Eater. He had fought for Voldemort several times. He had bled. He had killed. But here he was, confessing his hatred for the man. Before she could answer, Flint continued speaking. His anger was stirred up.

"Look, I came to Hogwarts because I can no longer carry on alone," he said. "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it. Those were the words of Dumbledore that made me decide to come here. Obviously, I was mistaken."

Ginny lowered her gaze, unsure why the man's disappointment seemed to hurt her. "One last question," she said hesitatingly. She turned to Flitwick. "This question is of utmost important." To Flint, she asked, "If you are allowed free and unrestricted movement, will you in any way hurt Hogwarts, the wards, the inhabitants or me?"

Flint looked mildly surprised by the question.

"Ginny, no!" Flitwick protested.

"He's correct, Filius," Ginny averted her gaze to the floor. "Hogwarts is a place of sanctuary where anyone, no matter who they are or what they have done, can come, and if they truly mean no harm and are repentant for any crimes they might have done, they will not be denied." She was whispering by the end. "If we cannot hold on to that, if we cannot provide refuge to those who seek it from the foes of Hogwarts, then we might as well surrender to the Monarch."

For a moment, there was silence. Then Ginny turned to Flint. "So, tell me, Flint, without playing with words or twisting my questions. Give me a reason to untie these binds off you."

Flint remained still for a long time. Just when Ginny was about to give up, Flint spoke, "I solemnly swear on my life and magic to do whatever it takes to secure Hogwarts from Death Eaters and the Monarch." Ginny's eyes widened when a white light glowered around the man she had assumed to be a Death Eater spy. But he wasn't done. "I solemnly swear on my life and magic to do whatever it takes to keep Ginevra Molly Weasley safe from all her foes."

Ginny gasped, and drew away from the man, as yet another magical oath settled in him. She stared at him for several seconds in disbelief and confusion. The intensity of his gaze surprised and intrigued her. But just before she could say anything, another insolent grin broke out on his face.

"I did say the purpose of my visit was to see you, my lady."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - The Lady of Hogwarts**

For the first time in many years, Harry Potter woke up with a smile on his face. He gazed at the room that was given to him. It was clearly in the Slytherin section. Ginny probably thought he would feel more comfortable there.

Thinking of Ginny made his smile widen. How had little Ginny Weasley with her elbows in butter dishes become someone who so easily slid into the massive shoes of Albus Dumbledore? But then his smile faltered. War and Voldemort. That's what happened to her.

When he had first seen her, he was ready to tell her everything. The whole ordeal of Harry Potter. But the suspicion in her voice had held him at bay. No, this wasn't the Ginny Weasley he knew. This was a woman who would stop at nothing to protect the people she felt a duty to. Harry respected her for it. He admired her for it. He would aid her in every respect, indeed he would lay down his life for her. But he couldn't trust her with the secret of Dumbledore's Gift and the knowledge of Harry Potter's survival yet. The cold emptiness of Azkaban was still too strong, he wasn't ready to reveal himself yet.

He needed to know more about her. He needed to know what happened to all his friends. He needed to know what terrible thing happened to Hermione Granger.

But still, he couldn't deny the uplifting of his heart from the previous night. Thrice, he fell in love with her all over again in a short span of fifteen minutes. First, when he first set his eyes on her. Her beauty hadn't dimmed one bit. In fact, she had grown up most gracefully. But more than that, more than just the beauty of a woman, was the resolve and self confidence of a true lady.

The second instance when he felt his heart completely consumed by the intensity of Ginny Weasley was the haunted look in her eyes when he mentioned Veritaserum. He could see her grief for Harry Potter. He yearned to reach forward and tell her he was there, he was alive. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.

The third time, when he finally realized how much Ginny had grown, how radically she had changed, and yet, found himself loving her all the more for it, was when she spoke of the ideal of Hogwarts, of sanctuary and belief. This was an aspect of Ginny Weasley, which left no doubt in his mind, why she had been chosen by Hogwarts. This was the Ginny Weasley who gave him all the reason he needed to plunge back into the struggle against Voldemort.

No longer was it the Dark Lord against the Chosen One. Now, the struggle was between the Monarch and the Lady of Hogwarts.

Harry walked through the corridors, sadly aware of the mistrustful looks being sent towards him. He quickly found out that the elder witches and wizards - a bare handful of them - were training the younger generation, mostly muggleborn and halfblood and an occasional pureblood children left orphaned when their parents were murdered by the forces of Voldemort.

Filius taught Charms and Dueling, aided by Ginny in both. Harry's former friend Oliver Wood, one of the less tolerant of his presence, taught Defense. Neville used to also teach but was away on a mission. Cho Chang was also present, teaching Survival Skills, should any student be left outside of Hogwarts.

"Find someone else to spy on, Death Eater!"

Harry sighed as he turned around. He had been observing Oliver Wood teach the Patronus Spell, and he was about to put in a word of advice to a student, but Oliver's suspicious gaze jolted something inside him.

"_You -- murderer!"_

Harry turned around and rushed away from the Gryffindor tower. He needed air. The cold sensation of Azkaban seized him again. No, not air. He needed brandy. Gasping for breath, he reached the portrait that led a secret passage to the kitchens.

"Brandy," he gasped as he stumbled in. "Firewhisky," he begged. "Anything."

"We don't keep alcohol here, Mr. Flint."

Harry gasped and turned to see who had spoken. Ginny Weasley was observing him with concern. She had been talking to a house elf, and seemed surprised to see him there. Harry's eyes bored into her.

"_I don'__t know how to ask for your forgiveness, I know I will never forgive myself." _

As suddenly as it had hit him, the cold left. He gathered himself and looked at Ginny. She was looking less stately as the previous night, with her hair down. He smiled in his mind, the shoulder length hair suited her face perfectly.

"Are you all right?" Ginny asked. She seemed a bit uneasy in his presence.

Harry nodded. Instead, he said, "You should forgive yourself."

Ginny gasped. "What did you say?"

Harry looked at her sadly. "I said you should forgive yourself for whatever it is that you blame yourself." He paused when Ginny continued to stare at him in disbelief. "It is so easy to read you. This whole hard exterior, this shell, you are hiding from something in your past. Or someone. Your actions and responsibilities, to you, are a punishment for something in your past." Harry knew he should stop. "You should forgive yourself."

"You have no right -" Ginny said coldly. "You have no idea what I've done!"

"Then tell me," Harry pleaded earnestly. "Please, I beg of you. Let me help you."

Ginny opened her mouth to lash at him, but when their eyes met, she faltered.

Harry tentatively reached forward and touched her hand, but Ginny sprung back, as if she had been scorched. But she didn't run away or slap him, as he was beginning to fear. Instead, she stayed a healthy distance away.

"Follow me," said Ginny.

Harry followed her, always maintaining the same distance between them. She led him silently through the corridors and out of the castle. He walked silently, a bit confused and worried. But then he saw it, and all thoughts of comforting Ginny vanished from his mind instantaneously.

In anguish, he gasped, and ran forward. His pace slowed down when he approached it, and he sunk to the ground.

The grave of Albus Dumbledore and the stone statue of Fawkes lay before him.

Harry closed his eyes, and allowed the tears to run without restraint.

"I - I didn't know it would grieve you so much," Ginny said softly. "Or else, I would have warned you."

Harry didn't respond for a long time. "He was a meddling old bastard," he said finally, shocking Ginny. "But he always meddled with the best of intentions."

Ginny chuckled. "I think I know at least another person who'd say amen to that." Then her mood darkened again. "I brought you out here so we could talk privately. Few come here."

Harry nodded. He got up.

"Ordinarily, I would have my wand raised by now," said Ginny. "But because of your oath… I want to know why you are doing this to me?"

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"First, you sneak into Hogwarts and try to flirt with me while I'm interrogating you," Ginny said. "Then you swear that oath. Now, you're trying to be my therapist. Why? Does the Monarch want you to win my heart so I'd give you whatever you want? Why are you doing this, Flint?"

Harry saw the suspicion in her eyes.

"_You -- murderer!"_

She hadn't been one of the accusers, of that he was certain, or else he wouldn't have lasted long enough for Dumbledore's Gift to come into play. But it was so hard not to hear her voice screaming at him, with the suspicion that was so clear on her face.

Harry turned around, feeling the pain of Azkaban assault him again. He realized then that it would never completely leave him. Stumbling, Harry put his hand on the statue of Fawkes for support and took a few deep breaths.

'Where is the help that was promised to any who sought it!' Harry's mind accused the grave of his former mentor. 'You have given me a great gift, Professor, but to me it's a curse! How am I to carry on without you? I am lost! Please, help me! I need your help! I can't do it alone, not with Ginny also suspicious -'

"Flint," Ginny touched his back. "Oh Merlin. What's wrong? Are you ill?"

'Only in my heart and soul,' Harry's mind answered.

"_Remember my last, Harry Potter…"_

But then something scorched Harry's hand, making him jump away, and Ginny moved with him. In a hasty motion, Harry's arm involuntarily came around Ginny protectively, as both observed in wonder the sight before them. A small spark emerged in the stone head of the phoenix where Harry's hand had rested on it. The spark slowly grew into a flame, which spread all around the statue, covering it in a shroud of red and golden phoenix fire, and a hauntingly beautiful melody reverberated around them.

"Merlin," Ginny breathed out in wonder. "That's so beautiful."

Harry's attention had diverted from the resurrecting phoenix to the redhead and he nodded, staring at her smile - a genuine innocent Ginny smile, that he hadn't seen in years. "Yes, very," he agreed.

Ginny laughed joyfully, and the sound brought greater peace to Harry's heart than the sight of Fawkes flying overhead.

"Fawkes!" Ginny called out happily. "I've waited for a sign for so long, that this struggle meant something, and now I finally have it! Fawkes!" Harry couldn't agree more with her.

The bird did another circle before swooping down towards Harry. But just before it could reach Harry, it trilled in almost a startled sadness. Harry understood it. The desolation in his soul, the confusion in his heart, it was all too deep. He smiled at Fawkes.

Fawkes trilled once and then did a circle around Ginny, before soaring to the skies.

"Fawkes!" Ginny cried out. "Fawkes! It's me, Ginny! Don't you remember?" she asked pleadingly. "You saved me and - and -" her voice quivered, "- Harry in the Chamber. Please don't go."

"A phoenix has no master or mistress, Ginny," Harry said softly. "Let Fawkes go. He'll be back where and when he's needed."

Ginny turned to Harry with tearful eyes, and surprising both of them, fell against him in an embrace. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head against his shoulder.

Harry wasn't complaining. He had wanted to do this since the moment he had seen her. The sweet scent of Ginny Weasley wafted all around him and he felt at peace. This was how it was meant to be. If only fate had been kinder to them.

"You've been nothing but amazing since you came," Ginny whispered in a small voice. "My suspicions were baseless. Fawkes doesn't stay with me because of how cold and heartless I have become."

Harry chuckled lightly. He patted Ginny's back, letting his fingers feel the silkiness of her hair. Here was the squeaking, elbows in butter dish version of his sweetheart back in full form.

"How do you do it?" Ginny complained.

"Do what?" Harry asked curiously.

"Make me realize that I said something utterly foolish without saying a single word." Ginny smiled sadly, as if lost in memory. "I knew someone else who could do that. You remind me of him."

Harry nodded. He had a good idea whom she was talking about.

Ginny parted from him, with a hint of reluctance. "You said I am punishing myself to atone for a mistake," she said. "I am not. My punishment was this," she raised her hand and pulled her sleeves up.

Harry gasped. His eyes watched in horror twin straight scars in both of Ginny's wrists. He looked at her in disbelief. She had tried to kill herself?

"But it was not enough for fate," said Ginny, oblivious to the horror in her companion's face. "I woke up, still alive, to the terrible news that my last surviving family member had died, and I felt something different in me, like a surge of power, something magnificent that was in my control. The Wards of Hogwarts came to me. I knew then, my punishment was not to share the fate of the one I loved but to take his place and fulfill the responsibilities he would have shouldered, were he able to."

Harry grabbed her wrists, letting his thumb gently trace her scars. "You foolish girl," Harry said. He felt angry. Angry at the world, for throwing him in Azkaban; at himself, for somehow being responsible for Ginny's anguish; at Ginny, for being so foolish. "If he meant so much to you, then why didn't you do something about it? Why didn't you tell him?"

Ginny's voice turned acidic, and she pulled her hands away. "Don't you remember? The Battle of Diagon Alley happened the day after Harry Potter's trial. I had convinced my father to let me visit him because I didn't believe it. Harry loved Dumbledore! My father agreed to take me, but the battle took his life, along with one of my brothers." Harry was aghast. "We were locked up in Grimm - someplace for months, while the adults tried to figure out what was happening. Then the Ministry of Magic fell. The Order of the Phoenix launched a final, desperate attack. We - we foolishly thought we could help, us children. I lost more brothers. My mother, my best friend and my pregnant sister-in-law were captured. For the next few weeks and months, my sole priority was to find them, to save them. I did manage to find Hermione and bring her to Hogwarts. She lasted only a week despite Pomfrey's best attempts. She had lost the will to live and withered away, broken from the tortures inflicted upon her by your friends."

She took a deep breath. "By then, he had started calling himself the Monarch. He besieged us thoroughly in Hogwarts. Getting out of Hogwarts was impossible. It was only when we discovered that Harry Potter was dying that I knew I had to see him one last time." She walked, as if in a daze, to a stone, and sat down on it. "I almost wish I hadn't. He - he -" she sobbed. "I still have nightmares about that visit. He was in such a bad shape. He reached forward and I touched his fingers and -" she stopped speaking to wipe her eyes, "I wish I had been faster, tried harder. I wish I had gone for him earlier."

"But I failed him," she said tightly. "Just as I have failed everyone else. But failing Harry hurts so much… it overshadows everything and everyone else." She turned to Harry, whose eyes were wet at the girl's grief. "Maybe, that's because I still haven't stopped loving him. So, Flint, have I have answered your questions, have I eased your mind?"

Harry lowered his gaze. She had answered his questions but his mind was anything but eased.

"I am really grateful for your oaths and for bringing Fawkes back, however you did it," said Ginny intently, meaning it. "But I want you to understand and accept that there will never be anything between us."

"Perhaps not between us," said Harry slowly. "But do you think shutting down emotionally is the best thing to do? Would Harry want this of you?"

"You have no idea what Harry would want!" Ginny snapped.

Harry tried very hard not to think about the irony of the statement.

But Ginny bit her lips. She walked closer and took Harry's hand. "Look, I appreciate this. We can be good friends. But right now I cannot afford to have any distractions. Keeping Hogwarts safe is all I care about."

"Very well," said Harry, not sure whether he should be glad or disappointed. He chose to avoid both feelings. She was correct, they were in the middle of a war they were losing. "Friends, then." Harry put an arm around Ginny and was glad when she didn't move away.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 - The Phoenix and the Boy**

Trust is a hard thing to establish. Perhaps the hardest thing about trust is that it needs to established at a very individual level. Harry sighed. He knew he would never get most of the other Defenders to trust him anytime soon. But it didn't really matter that much to him. Since their fateful meeting over the grave of Albus Dumbledore, Ginny had shown nothing but the most implicit trust in him.

But, she was the only one. Filius Flitwick was courteous but cautious, perhaps because he had been a witness to his oath. However, the other adults were completely against the decision of Ginny and Flitwick to allow a known Death Eater sanctuary in Hogwarts.

"Don't you recall how that ended up with Snape?"

Harry paused, having overheard those words, and decided not to enter the staffroom. Oliver Wood was against him. So was Cho Chang. Colin Creevey had decided to put his trust behind Ginny Weasley, but there was little affection between him and Harry. The handful of others were undecided, but mostly seemed suspicious of him.

Sighing, he turned around, and without thinking, found himself walking in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. He didn't want to compound to Ginny's problems by barging in on a meeting, despite being invited, when he was clearly not wanted by most of the others.

"Hello."

Harry turned around. A young boy was looking at him cautiously. Harry thought he looked familiar, but he couldn't have been, as he was too young to have been in Hogwarts three years ago. The boy seemed a bit uneasy but was clearly trying to draw up his confidence to speak to him.

"How can I help you?" Harry asked, with a smile.

"Yesterday, you were standing outside Professor Wood's class, observing my failure to make a Patronus," he said. Harry nodded, remembering the incident. "It seemed like you had some suggestions…"

Harry understood. "Come with me." He led the boy to an empty classroom. "What's your name?"

"Mark."

Harry nodded. "Well, Mark. I'm sure you know who I am." The boy nodded. "You appear to be no more than a third year."

"I'm in my second year," the boy said. "I know I might not be able to cast a Patronus so young. But I have to try."

Harry stared at the boy, wondering what memory the Dementors brought in him.

"Lucius Malfoy tortured and killed my family in front of me and was torturing me before I was rescued," the boy answered his unspoken question.

Harry simply nodded and started helping him go through the spell. After about half an hour, the boy was able to produce a faint mist.

"Don't overstretch yourself, Mark," said Harry gently. "Even this is a formidable achievement at such a young age."

Mark grinned. "Can you cast it?"

Harry paused. His stag patronus was well known and would easily indicate his true identity. But Harry felt a strong kinship to the young boy. "Can you keep it secret?"

The boy nodded.

Harry smiled, and recalled the memory from the day before, Ginny in his arms, her pleasant scent, Fawkes coming back to life. The rebirth of hope. If that didn't do it, then he might as well give up the struggle.

"Expecto Patronum."

But the shock was to be Harry's more than Mark's, for it wasn't Prongs that stood before him. Harry stared in disbelief and shock at the hippogriff that winked back at him.

"This is your patronus? Fawkes was correct then…"

Harry turned to Mark, who had whispered those words, as he stared with wonder at the hippogriff. "Did you just say Fawkes? And what's so strange about the patronus?"

"I believe I can answer that."

Harry turned his head and saw Ginny Weasley standing at the door, her gaze fixed firmly on Harry, with glistening eyes.

"Mark Evans, please give us a moment. I believe Gabrielle Delacour was searching for you."

Mark Evans. A memory jogged in Harry's mind. A ten year old being cheeky to Dudley Dursley. Dudley hitting him. He gazed at Mark again, and recognized the features of his former neighbor from Privet Drive.

"By your surprise, can I take it to believe this is the first instance of this particular patronus appearing for you?" Ginny asked breathlessly. She was staring with wide eyes at the hippogriff, as it flew around the medium sized classroom.

Harry nodded, spellbound and confused. "I haven't tried this spell in years. I wasn't sure it would work."

Ginny looked at him with a disturbed expression.

"What's so special about the - oh -" he froze, when the woman before him transformed into an identical hippogriff as to the silvery one, flying around. He stepped forward and blinked when he saw a tear in hippogriff Ginny's eyes. Harry touched the hippogriff's head, before it reverted back to the human. "This makes things a bit more awkward, I suppose."

Ginny chuckled lightly. She touched Harry's arm. "It makes us even better friends." She sighed when Harry's face fell slightly. "Had I mastered the transformation earlier, I might have been able to save _him_…"

Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny, hating himself for not coming clean before her. But he couldn't. And it wasn't only because of his fear and dread from Azkaban.

"_I don'__t know how to ask for your forgiveness…" _

His revelation could have a devastating effect on her. He couldn't do that, not until the war was over. Her devastation could compromise the Wards of Hogwarts. He had to keep his curse a secret. But he couldn't see her in such pain.

"Have you ever felt he's with you? That he's watching over you?" Harry asked curiously.

Ginny looked at him curiously.

"Somebody once told me that those who love us never leave us, even after their death," said Harry. "A part of them always remains behind with us, like a guardian angel watching over us."

Ginny smiled. She raised her wand. "Expecto Patronum." Harry gasped, for Prongs was standing before him. But it wasn't quite Prongs. There was a lightning-shaped scar on the stag's forehead. "He's always watching over me, Marcus."

'If only you knew,' thought Harry sadly.

"I wanted to carry him back," said Ginny. "But the bars of Azkaban are unbreakable. And when I touched his fingers, I knew I wasn't capable of more contact. It would have broken me completely."

Harry smiled sadly at her.

"But that isn't why I came to you," said Ginny, shaking aside all other thoughts. "You should have come to the meeting."

"I almost did," admitted Harry. "But I overheard what Wood and Chang had to say and decided it would be best if I stayed away."

Ginny sighed. "I could have done with your opinion. A new situation has come up."

Harry looked at her curiously.

"The Monarch is willing to reconsider his terms," said Ginny. "He is willing to provide full autonomy to Hogwarts over its surrounding magical regions."

Harry was surprised, but sensed a 'but' coming along.

"But his condition is that I marry Draco Malfoy," Ginny said, in complete disgust. "Malfoy will be the Lord Consort of Hogwarts."

Harry stiffened.

"Flitwick and Chang think this is worth considering," Ginny said quietly.

"Flitwick and Chang are fools!" Harry bellowed.

Ginny's gaze lowered. "They have the best interests of the children in mind."

"What about you?" Harry yelled. "What about Hogwarts?" He took a deep breath when he saw Ginny was getting slightly scared of his temper. "Do you really think Draco Malfoy being in charge would be good for Hogwarts and the children?"

"I don't," Ginny sighed. "But I have to face reality. We are losing, Marcus. The Wards are all that stand between us and them."

Harry's fingers grabbed Ginny's shoulder, he relaxed them and gently rubbed her shoulder. "Do you know why Mark Evans wants to learn how to fight Dementors? Because he sees Lucius Malfoy murder his family, torturing them, torturing him… you want to give his son power over such children? How can you even think of -"

Ginny's eyes blazed back at him. She slapped Harry. "Do you think I don't know that?" she spat at Harry. "I was the one who rescued Mark. And if I recall correctly, until a while ago you used to join Lucius Malfoy in killing innocent people like Mark's family!"

Harry felt cold. She was correct. He wasn't Harry Potter in her eyes, he had no right to say such things to her. He was Marcus Flint, a Death Eater. He drew back quietly.

Ginny gasped at the hurt in his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, Marcus!" Ginny cried out, and grabbed his hands before he could leave. "Don't leave me, please."

Harry allowed Ginny to fall in his arms and held her tightly.

"I don't know how you do it," she said softly. "I am usually so strong before everyone, not show a single weakness. But in front of you, everything comes pouring out of me - my anger, my grief, all my insecurities, all my doubts, all my confusion."

"That's because I -"

"Don't say it, please, I beg you," Ginny pleaded. "Please don't."

Harry sighed. "That's because I'm your friend, Ginny." Silently, he added in his mind, 'And I love you.'

Ginny smiled at him. She raised her head and kissed Harry's cheek. "I am very grateful for that. I really am, though I may not show it all the time. The truth is, Marcus, in these few short days, I have come to realize how much I need you." She gazed intently into Harry's eyes. "I need you to be there for me, to support me." Softer, she added. "I need you to support every decision I make, even if it means marriage to Draco Malfoy."

Harry released her, as if he had been punched in his stomach. For a moment, they both looked at each other.

"_He'__s always watching over me, Marcus."_

"I'm here, Ginny," he said softly. "I gave you an oath and that prevents me from standing by while you ruin your life. I will do everything in my power to keep you from marrying Draco Malfoy. Should I fail," his eyes closed in pain, "Should I fail, I'll still be watching over you. Never doubt that."

Without another word, Harry left the classroom, trying to ignore the quiet grief of tears from the girl he had left behind. He had to do something soon. Coming to Hogwarts, though a balm to his heart, had made him very complacent.

He knew what he had to do.

"Marcus, are you all right?"

Harry turned around. He saw Mark Evans and Gabrielle Delacour looking at him with concern. His eyes fell on their interlocked hands. Weren't they a bit too young to be holding hands? Didn't all girls, except Hermione who didn't really count, had cooties at that age, or was it just him? Harry smiled.

"I'm fine," he said. Then, he turned to Mark. "You mentioned Fawkes earlier. What was that all about?" He saw both children instantly becoming a bit tense.

Gabrielle was the one to speak first. "Please don't take Fawkes away from him, Marcus," she pleaded. "He came to Mark!"

Harry froze. He turned to the boy for confirmation. "Dumbledore's phoenix came to you?"

Mark nodded warily. "I was having a nightmare. Fawkes came and sang to me. I felt peaceful."

"Earlier, you said 'Fawkes was correct' when I made the patronus," said Harry, thinking back. "Does the phoenix speak to you?"

Mark frowned. He shook his head. "No, not in words. But I can understand his songs," he said, unable to explain himself better. "He wants me to trust you."

Harry smiled.

"He also wants you to trust me."

Harry's smile dimmed. He knew what he had to do. Involving the two children was not a good idea. But then he frowned. Was he becoming like McGonagall in his first year, thinking that because of their young age, the two twelve year olds in front of him, were incapable of being useful. Hadn't he himself achieved more than most adult wizards by that age? Wouldn't Fawkes be a better judge of character and potential than he himself?

"I am leaving Hogwarts," he said, making them both gasp in disbelief. "I am going to spy on the Monarch." He smiled sadly and walked away.

Harry didn't have many belongings. He had Flint's wand, which didn't work as wonderfully as his own, but it wasn't too bad. He walked out of the castle and walked towards the forest. Ginny was considering the Monarch's proposal and Harry simply couldn't stand by and watch her throw away her life like that. He had to take a more active stance against the enemy.

"_I need you to support every decision I make, even if it means marriage to Draco Malfoy."_

How could he do that? How could he see Ginny in Malfoy's arms? Harry was frustrated. He wanted to tell everything to Ginny. But would she believe him? The briefest mention of Harry Potter was torturous to her. How could he throw such a huge thing on her? Especially, when she needed to be strong enough to fulfill her responsibilities to Hogwarts.

"I can help you," said Mark eagerly.

Harry frowned. He turned around. Mark had run after him alone.

"Listen, I've got Fawkes with me," said Mark in a rush. "We have a connection. I can send him to get messages from you. See." Mark closed his eyes.

The next instant, Fawkes the phoenix appeared with a flash of fire and did a circle over their heads. He settled on Mark's shoulder.

Harry grinned at the phoenix, feeling a slight disappointment that the firebird hadn't chosen him. But just then, Fawkes started trilling melodiously, easing Harry's worries. Harry turned to Mark.

"Did you understand what he said?"

Mark nodded. "Fawkes thinks you have enough responsibilities and burdens already. You need someone you can trust completely."

Harry smiled at the phoenix, who was looking at him sadly, and turned to the boy, making yet another decision. Harry understood then. The phoenix hadn't returned to stay with him. Fawkes had returned for a far better purpose, to make him trust again.

"Mark Evans," Harry muttered. "Dudley was a giant whale, wasn't he?"

Mark gasped and took a step back in horror.

"So you see, I didn't go to St. Brutus' after all," Harry smiled sadly.

"No," Mark whispered in disbelief. "You can't be him. Professor Ginny said you're dead. That you died in A-Azkaban."

Harry looked at him sadly. "I should be," said Harry. "Marcus Flint killed me."

"Then, how?"

"How indeed?" Harry wondered out loud.

"_Remember my last, Harry Potter. This curse will not release until Hogwarts__ is secured from all its foes."_

"_Harry Potter - the Boy Who Lived!"_

"_I know why you couldn'__t kill me. Because my mother died to save me."_

"… _he will have power__ the dark lord knows not…"_

"I am alive because Albus Dumbledore was a great wizard," said Harry finally, "who sacrificed his own life to keep Harry Potter alive. I am alive because somebody needs to destroy Voldemort for good."

"… _I never stopped loving you either…"_

"I am alive because I love Ginny Weasley," he finished.

Mark looked at Harry with a troubled expression. He had his wand out. "If you're really Harry Potter, then answer this: who was Dudley Dursley's best friend? Who was the one who'd hold the arms of Dudley's victims behind their back while Dudley punched them?"

Harry sighed sadly at the suspicion in one so young. War and Voldemort, that is what was wrong with the world. "Piers Polkiss," said Harry. "He was tall, thin and had a mousy face."

Mark lowered his wand, staring at Harry in disbelief. "Great Heavens!" he uttered. Then, he looked angry. "Why haven't you told Professor Ginny? She's been so sad and -"

"Mark!" Harry interrupted sharply. "You have to give me your word you will not tell anyone."

"But -"

"Your word, Mark!" Harry said forcefully, grabbing the boy. The boy glared at him defiantly, and Harry let go. "I want to," Harry whispered in a croaking voice. "I want to tell her, so I can hold her in my arms, and kiss her, and…" he sighed. "But I can't. She's the Lady of Hogwarts, she holds the burden of the Wards. I will be a weakness to her when she can ill afford it. Revealing myself will make her vulnerable to such pain, to such fear and insecurities… can't you see how she's affected by merely thinking of me? How much worse would it be if I were to stand before her in person…" He saw understanding in the boy's face. "I must let her suffer a bit longer," Harry said, self-disgust laced in his voice, "so she can remain the magnificent leader she has become. Anything else would be horribly selfish of me. Please, Mark."

"I give you my word," said Mark reluctantly. "But can I tell Gabrielle at least? She grieves for you, I mean Harry Potter." Then, he grinned. "Oh, she's going to love it. Her favorite hero saved her yet again."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Hmm… So, Mark, you and Gabrielle, eh?" The younger boy blushed. Harry chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair. He couldn't help feel some sort of affinity to Mark. At the same time, Harry felt so relieved to have told someone the truth finally.

Things were looking bright.


	6. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews.

**Chapter 5 - The Spymaster of Hogwarts**

The lessons were beginning to get tiring. The boy glanced at his friend, who looked helplessly at him. Sighing, Mark turned his attention back to Cho Chang. He hated Survival Skills class, not because he didn't agree with the concept, but because the teacher was very fussy.

"Professor Chang," Mark raised his hand. "I can do the laundry charm. May I be excused for the rest of the class?"

Cho Chang moved to him. She looked at the pile of clothes in front of the boy, which had been his previous week's laundry pile. She frowned. It was clean but not very neatly pressed.

"Practice the ironing spell until the creases are all gone," she said, and moved to inspect some other student.

Mark groaned. He really didn't think he would be bothered about crumpled clothes if he were trying to survive. However, he didn't have much of an option, and kept casting the spell. Finally, three quarters of an hour later, when he still hadn't succeeded in it, the teacher dismissed them, and Mark rushed out of the classroom.

"I'll see you later, Gabby," he called out to Gabrielle, and ran in the direction of Ginny Weasley's chamber.

Harry had departed from Hogwarts and everyone had believed he had left to his old master again. Ginny had been devastated at Harry's departure, and no matter how much Mark tried to tell her, she wouldn't dare believe him that Harry was out there working for them.

But now he had something more than words and faith.

Mark paused outside the room and knocked thrice. He waited a second, and then knocked thrice again. Within seconds, Ginny opened the door. Mark nearly gasped at the sight of her face. It looked as if she hadn't slept for days, or eaten anything. But still, there was a forcefulness in her which intimidated Mark. Gulping, Mark followed her to a chair.

"Professor Ginny, you should read this," Mark handed her a letter. "If this doesn't convince you that Marcus Flint is spying for us, then nothing will."

Ginny looked at him, hope fleeting through her face for an instant, as she grabbed the letter and read out loud. "To the S of H." She looked at Mark curiously.

"Just a joke," Mark muttered shyly. "It stands for Spymaster of Hogwarts."

Ginny grinned at him and continued reading. "The Monarch is planning to send an envoy to Hogwarts to convince the Lady to agree to his demands. This will be accompanied by an increase in the intensity of the siege. You must convince the Lady not to give in. There's a new wave of rebellion in the South. I'm trying to find out more about it. Send Fawkes at precisely four in the morning."

Ginny remained still for several moments before smiling.

"I told you," Mark piped in helpfully. "Marcus is completely on our side."

Ginny turned to Mark curiously. "How does he do it?" she asked. "In less than a month, he's won such strong loyalty from you and Gabrielle that you'd stand up to Professors Wood, Chang and I so publicly."

"He's a good man, Professor Ginny," said Mark seriously. "Give him a chance."

Ginny chuckled at the boy's attempts. She got up and poured them both some juice.

Mark smiled as he accepted the drink from her. They were close, the two of them, ever since Ginny Weasley has stormed into his house and rescued him from Lucius Malfoy and taken him to Hogwarts. They often spoke of their personal fears and doubts to each other. His smile faltered. "You're not going to accept Malfoy's proposal, are you?" his voice broke. "How can you do that?"

Ginny reached forward and pulled the boy into a hug. "Oh, Mark," she said softly. "I don't want to, you must know that."

Mark asked in a small voice, "Why not Marcus? He loves you, you know."

Ginny smiled sadly. "Such loyalty," she smiled. "I have no doubt about that, but I am afraid I can't… I can't love him back, not in the way he deserves."

Mark hesitated. "Is it because of - Harry Potter?" Ginny's expression answered him. Mark hesitated again. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything you want," said Ginny.

"Have you ever felt he's near you?" asked Mark curiously. "Harry Potter, I mean. I know he's dead but have you ever felt he was alive and with you? Is there anyone else who gives you the same feeling as Harry Potter used to?"

Ginny gasped. She narrowed her eyes. "Why would you ask such a horrid question?" she asked, and got up.

Mark drew back at the sharpness of her voice. He looked at her back regretfully. "I'm sorry, Professor Ginny," he said sincerely. "But please think about what I said. If there is someone like that, shouldn't you give them a chance?"

"You speak of things you know nothing about," Ginny said. "Don't raise this topic again, Mark."

Mark sighed. "I won't, not after today. But just this once. Please."

"Very well," said Ginny, giving up. "Why do you ask such questions?"

Mark hesitated. He knew he was on dangerous grounds. But Ginny was right, he felt a strong loyalty towards Harry, and knew he was in the right. "I do have a reason," he said firmly. "I didn't know he was a wizard when I knew Harry Potter. To us, he was the boogeyman of the neighborhood. Parents would tell children to stay away from the weird Potter boy who -"

"Don't, Mark."

"Well, they used to," Mark continued. "Then one day, Harry's cousin and his friends were beating me. He stood up for me. Harry Potter, I mean. He told Dudley to get lost and pick someone his own size. He allowed the bullies to chase him and get away from me."

"That sounds like Harry," said Ginny fondly.

"The thing is," Mark leaned forward seriously, "I knew he was supposed to be someone bad because that's what people told me about him. But the Harry Potter I met wasn't the same Harry Potter everyone spoke of. He was different, he was good. Then, I came here and found out just how good he truly was. Marcus Flint makes me feel the same way."

Ginny Weasley drew back, as if she were slapped across her face. She stared with disbelief at what the boy had said.

But Mark wasn't done.

"_I am alive because somebody needs to destroy Voldemort…"_

"I know Flint was a Death Eater because everyone says he was. But the Marcus Flint I met isn't the same person everyone speaks of. He is different, he is good. Why can't others see that?" He felt nearly on the verge of tears at his final question. It just wasn't fair to Harry Potter. He didn't deserve all that had happened to him.

Ginny walked closer and embraced the boy. "I know he is good," said Ginny softly. "He reminds me of Harry too," she admitted. "But I try not to think of it. Nothing good can come out of it." She kissed the boy's forehead. "Now, you must promise me never to raise this topic again."

Mark looked despondent. He had hoped to make Ginny realize she was being unfair to herself and Harry. But he had failed. He sighed and promised what she asked.

"Someday you will find out just how good Marcus is," Mark whispered sadly. "But I promise I won't speak of this again."

"Between the two of us," Ginny added lightly, as she walked out with Mark, "I think Marcus has a very cute bum. Though, not as cute as Harry," Ginny smirked at the reddening boy, "or you."

"Professor!"

"You asked for it, kiddo," Ginny ruffled his hair.

Mark snorted. He had at least managed to lighten the Lady's mood.

Early, the next morning, Mark was sitting in the staffroom with Ginny and Gabrielle. They had decided to limit the number of people aware of their clandestine operations to those who trusted Marcus Flint. Flitwick had been a close call, but his insistence on accepting the Monarch's latest terms, had turned Mark Evans against him.

"Dear S of H," Mark read out for everyone, when Fawkes flashed in with the latest letter. "Some good, some great and some bad news. Good: Elphias Dodge of Flourish and Botts is harboring three Undesirables." He looked excitedly at Ginny. "I am making plans with him to move these people to Hogwarts. They will be at the Whomping Willow before breakfast. Ginny will feel their arrival. Fawkes will need to cry a bit." Mark was confused.

"Phoenix tears can heal," Ginny contributed.

"Oh, nice," said Mark, looking with an impressed expression at the phoenix. Fawkes trilled smugly. "Bad news: The Monarch is keeping plans of the impending attack on Hogwarts close to his chest. Bellatrix Lestrange is overseeing it." Everybody was disappointed.

"He tried," Ginny said. "The good news definitely outweighs the bad. Go on."

"The great news: Don't tell…" Mark read ahead and his eyes nearly popped out. "Shit!" He hastily crumpled the letter and gulped. "I should have read alone first."

"Mark," Ginny said warningly, holding her hand out for the letter.

Mark looked disturbed.

"Mark," Ginny's voice became a bit darker.

Sighing, Mark unfolded the letter. "The great news: Don't tell Ginny or Gabrielle yet, as I don't want to give them false hope," Mark sighed. He was a fool to have not read it alone, but he could hardly leave them hanging at that. Perhaps, he could leave it before reaching the really sensitive bits.

"They might have a niece."

"What!" Gabrielle yelled, and Ginny blinked blankly.

Mark gulped. "Fleur had managed to escape, she lived long enough to deliver a baby in a muggle hospital. The baby was supposed to be placed in an orphanage under the name Victoire Wessels, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. W Wessels."

"How does he know?" Ginny whispered hoarsely.

Mark continued. "One of the Undesirables to be sent your way is Mundungus Fletcher. Ginny will know who he is."

"I do," Ginny said.

"He escaped with Fleur and was with her until the hospital. Then, he distracted their pursuers, allowing a muggle to take the baby with instructions to be left under that name in some orphanage in South London. I am trying to locate her."

"This is unbelievable," Ginny whispered. She realized Gabrielle was in tears and she hugged the girl. "We have a niece!" she said delightedly.

Mark looked at their happiness and sighed, hoping Harry managed to find the baby. He read the rest of the letter in silence and decided he could slip away. "Fawkes, come with me," said Mark. He walked out of the room.

He followed the instructions in the letter and found his way to the former office of Albus Dumbledore. He was stopped by a stone gargoyle. Sighing, Mark turned to Fawkes. "A lift?"

Fawkes trilled and carried the boy over the grotesque statue, and the bird and the boy found themselves in the office. The boy looked around. Dust covered the many items littered around in the room, as if it hadn't been used for years. He knew it hadn't been. There were scores of portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses, all staring down at him. There were silver gadgets. On the table was a pile of paperwork and a bowl of lemon candy.

Mark blinked.

All the portraits blinked back at him.

"Hello?" said Mark.

"It's been a while since anyone has been here. I am Armando Dippet, a former Headmaster of Hogwarts," a dark haired wizard remarked.

Mark nodded politely. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Mark Evans, the Spymaster of Hogwarts. I'll be using this office from now on."

There was a flurry of protests from some of the portraits, although most were amused. Mark shrugged. "The way I see it, nobody uses this place. Though Ginny controls the wards, she hasn't been sworn in as Headmaster, so you don't have any allegiance to anyone."

"Indeed," Dippet was looking with amusement.

"Which is a pity," continued Mark, "as someone just informed me what a valuable resource is being wasted. I mean, of course, you guys, with all the places you can secretly obtain information from. Also, as you all have sworn loyalty to Hogwarts, I can trust you." He shook his head, and then his demeanor changed. "You!" he shouted at Albus Dumbledore's calm portrait. "You - you -"

"Oh dear," said Dumbledore gloomily. "What other mistakes have I made that Minerva hasn't thoroughly chastised me for?"

"Albus!" the portrait of Minerva McGonagall rebuked. "Let the boy speak."

Mark paused. "I have given my word not to." He glared at McGonagall. "Just to make things clear, I'm not very happy with you either. It's got something to do with Harry Potter. You should have had more faith in him. And Dumbledore, let's not even get started on what you have done to him!"

The effect was instantaneous on the mention of Harry Potter. An atmosphere of complete seriousness and dejection descended over Dumbledore, McGonagall and several others.

"I am establishing my base here," informed Mark. "Fawkes is my main source of information. It would help if I had your assistance as well. My aim is to simply help one Fawkes trusts to protect Hogwarts from its foes." He beckoned to Fawkes. "The bird is evidence of my truthfulness."

Fawkes trilled, a bit affronted at being called a mere 'bird'.

Dumbledore chuckled, but then he looked sadly at Mark. "The memory of my portrait doesn't stretch back to the final week before my death, although I have been informed of the circumstances that led to my death. I can think of several things I might have done to generate such animosity from you, young man."

"Yeah? Well, you chose the worst out of them," Mark snapped.

All the portraits seemed extremely amazed at the boy's anger at Dumbledore. But Mark didn't heed them. He turned to the letter again, and then to Dumbledore. He asked seriously. "Where is Harry Potter's wand?"

The boy and the old man in the portrait stared at each other for a long time. Finally, Dumbledore sighed. "In the third drawer to the left. There is a trick compartment, which is opened every time a lemon drop is removed from the bowl."

Mark gaped with an open mouth. He chuckled, which was followed by a chuckle from Dumbledore. Quickly, he retrieved the Holly and Phoenix Feather wand that belonged to Harry Potter and wiped the dust off it, almost reverently. Then, he turned to the phoenix.

"Can you take this to Marcus Flint, Fawkes?"

The phoenix trilled and vanished in a flash of red and gold flames.

"What!" "Marcus Flint!" "Why, you little treacherous -"

Mark leaned back, not wanting to explain the situation to the portraits.

"Silence!" Dumbledore's voice boomed over everyone. He faced the boy for several seconds silently. Then, he croaked in a horrified voice, "What have I done!" Then, the greatest Headmaster of Hogwarts shocked all his predecessors.

Albus Dumbledore wept, holding his head in his hands.


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

Timelines - a query was made by an unsigned reviewer about the timeframe. I admit the fault here is entirely mine. When I had started writing, Harry was supposed to have spent 5 years in Azkaban, but midway through I changed it to 3 years. I thought I had corrected all references to 5 years but one might have slipped past. So basically, after Dumbledore's death, Harry is sentenced to Azkaban. Three years later, Marcus Flint kills him, and Harry's soul is replaced with Marcus' and this story starts from then on.

Thanks for the reviews.

**Chapter 6 - Treachery **

The baby's cries resounded in the night. Harry was lost. He was many things, but not a babysitter. Swallowing uneasily, he tried to pat the baby to calm her. When that didn't work, Harry shifted the baby in his arms. Maybe she was uncomfortable. Maybe, he should try singing to her.

"Hush-a-bye baby, on the treetop, when the wind blows, the cradle will uh… stop? Drop? Rock?…"

He had finally found Victoire after searching for three days. She was in a small orphanage that, fortunately, hadn't been completely destroyed by Voldemort during his takeover of London.

Harry wondered why the muggle government toppled so easily. Surely, they could have deployed fearsome weapons against the magical insurgency? But he pushed aside such thoughts. His top priority was to get Victoire back safely.

He smiled when she giggled at his singing. But when he got bored of the same words and lapsed into silence, the crying began again. So, he tried again.

"In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight…"

Victoire giggled again.

Harry gazed into her eyes. The same hazel of her father, aunt and grandfather. His smile dimmed.

"_You -- murderer!"_

Arthur Weasley had been one of his accusers. He hadn't said anything but his silent disappointment had cut deeply in his heart. How could he believe the fake veritaserum testimony? Harry knew it wasn't the man's fault. His upbringing didn't allow him to question the veracity of the truth serum. But it still hurt that somebody he respected tremendously had turned against him.

"… _I didn'__t believe it. Harry loved Dumbledore!"_

Neither should Ginny's upbringing allow her to question the confession, but she had. Frankly, Ginny's steadfast belief was enough. Harry turned to the baby. "… hush, my darling, don't cry, my darling, the lion sleeps tonight…" He smiled when the girl's eyes closed, and he lapsed into silence.

But the peace was not to last. With a flash of fire, Fawkes appeared, and from the urgent trills of the firebird, something had gone terribly wrong.

"Hush," Harry said to the baby, who had woken up again, and hastily grabbed the letter from Fawkes' claws. He nodded when Fawkes started trilling to the girl, and stretched the parchment.

He gasped. It was a short message. "Betrayed… Flitwick committed suicide… Wood dead, Chang ran away… Dementors… Ginny needs you… Help!"

Harry gasped in horror, the color completely drained from his face. He jumped up. But then he looked at the baby. He looked at the phoenix. "Can you travel with Victoire?" He knew that a phoenix could only transport the one they had bonded with. But perhaps, a baby… but Fawkes trilled regretfully.

Harry sighed. He grabbed the baby in his arms, strapped her against his heart and covered her with his robes. He put an arm around her protectively. "I'm sorry for this, kiddo. You can hate me as much as you want when you grow up," he said regretfully. "Silencio." He then cast an illusion charm on her to hide her from others. To Fawkes, he said, "Return to Mark. Keep him safe. I get the feeling he is more important than it appears."

Then, he took a step and apparated to just outside Hogwarts.

The sight that was in front of him was ghastly. Mark hadn't exaggerated by much. There were about four or five people holding back the attack led by Bellatrix Lestrange. Ginny was holding back several Dementors while leading the small group in the fight against the Death Eaters. For a moment, Harry marveled her ability. She was definitely up to the task. But there were many Death Eaters observing from the distance, obviously enjoying the show, ready to pick up from later on.

Harry frowned. How could this have happened? He raised his wand. "Silencio! Confringo! Diffindo! Stupefy!"

He quietly silenced a smaller group of Death Eaters and attacked them from behind. He had a baby to look after and couldn't afford to fight a Gryffindor's battle. He took a deep breath and looked at the Dementors. Even from afar, they scared him. He would rather die than be kept in captivity with Dementors again.

Harry hesitated. Victoire's smile reflected in his mind. Victoire, a future worth fighting for.

"Expecto Patronum!" A massive griffin burst out. "Go, help Prongs Jr.!" He directed the patronus towards Ginny's stag patronus.

"Marcus!" Ginny yelled. "To me!"

Harry marveled her spirit. She was a true leader. He sprinted to her. "Doing well, Weasley," he remarked.

Ginny didn't respond. The Death Eaters had joined the fray.

"Flint? You dare betray the Monarch?" Bellatrix Lestrange hissed. "I will kill you myself."

Suddenly, Harry felt cold. Before him was the murderer of Sirius. "You bitch! Diffindo!" To Ginny, he asked. "Where are the others?"

Ginny gritted her teeth. "Dead, injured or unavailable. Keep fighting."

Half a dozen Death Eaters had entered the wards. Harry's mind was racing. They couldn't hold them back indefinitely. The key was to push them back out. "Avis Oppungo! Chase them out! Avis Oppungo! Chase them out!"

Ginny got the idea. "Avis Oppungo! Chase them back."

Harry saw the Death Eaters hadn't caught their tactic and stepped backwards to avoid the attacking birds. Several of them had gone out. A few were left. But that was when a new figure appeared. Lucius Malfoy.

"Cease this nonsense," said Malfoy, to the Death Eaters. "The Monarch did not authorize you to attack Hogwarts."

Bellatrix Lestrange paled slightly and lowered her wand.

"The Monarch is magnanimous and would have peace with the Lady of Hogwarts," continued Malfoy. He turned to Ginny. "My dear, stop this ridiculous defiance and yield to what you must know is inevitable. Accept my son as your consort and let there be peace in our realm."

"Never!" Harry yelled out angrily.

"I see," said Malfoy, letting his gaze drift on the features of Marcus Flint for a brief moment. He spoke to Ginny. "I am surprised to see you collaborating with the murderer of Harry Potter."

There was silence. Harry froze. He literally felt the shock in Ginny's face as she turned to him.

"_You_ killed Harry?" Ginny's voice was broken. She looked at him with lost and betrayed eyes.

"Ginny, please!" Harry cried out, this was absolutely the worst thing that could have happened. "I will explain everything to you! Don't do anything -"

"How long?" Ginny hissed in a furious voice. Her eyes glinted with a hate that Harry never wanted to see directed at himself. "How long have you been laughing at me?" She raised her wand with trembling hands.

Harry lowered his head. He had no idea how to get out of this situation. Revealing in front of Malfoy was not an option. But he couldn't raise his wand at the girl he loved. There was no option. He had to face whatever punishment she decided was fitting.

"You don't understand," Harry said slowly. "Please, give me a chance to explain inside, away from them." He glanced at Malfoy. "It's not like you think -"

"No!" Ginny shouted. "I can't believe this! I can't believe I was so stupid to trust you!"

The self-disgust in her voice broke Harry's heart.

"How could you do this to me?" Ginny cried. Her wand had lowered. Her knees gave way and she sank to the ground. "How could you make me fall in love with the murderer of Harry Potter?"

"_You -- murderer!"_

"Not now," Harry croaked to himself, as he himself staggered back as the cold memories from Azkaban assaulted his mind at Ginny's accusation.

Just then, he felt something else. A new shift. There was a ripple of magic around them. He felt as if a cold dagger was being clenched through his heart as he saw Ginny completely break down in front of him. Then, his eyes fell on the delighted expression on Malfoy, and he realized what was happening.

"_The truth is, Marcus, in these few__ short days, I have come to realize how much I need you… I need you to be there for me, to support me." _

"Ginny, get a grip! The Wards are falling!" Harry yelled urgently. "Get a grip! Please!"

But Ginny was beyond his reach.

Sighing, Harry knew there was only one thing to do. If that didn't work, then he had condemned them all by his foolishness to maintain his secrecy. He cast a spell, and a baby's cries rose over the din of Ginny's tears. Harry removed the charms from the baby in his arms and placed her in the grass, not far from Ginny.

"This is your niece. Get a grip, Weasley. The Wards are falling." His voice was detached, Azkaban memories were assaulting him. He didn't look at Ginny or the baby. They were lost to him.

"_You -- murderer!"_

"I am sorry," he said with clenched teeth. "You will not see me again."

He realized from the screams and curses of Lucius Malfoy that the magic of the wards were stabilizing and chanced a glance back at Ginny. He regretted it, for he fell in love with her all over again. She was standing upright, Victoire in her arms, her wand was held high. There was nothing but grim determination in her face as she looked at Harry.

"Get out."

Harry nodded. He had no choice. He was being thrown out to the wolves that awaited. But how could he blame Ginny after what he had done to her.

"_How could you make me fall in love with the murderer of Harry Potter?"_

How could he not have seen such a thing happening? In his haste to reach to her, he had completely forgotten the deeds of the previous soul that occupied the body he was in.

"Don't do this, Professor Ginny."

Harry turned around. Mark Evans was staring at the scene unfolding between Harry and Ginny with distress. Harry couldn't help but smile at the young boy. He reminded him so much of himself when he was that age, desperate to help, befriended by a phoenix, thrown into war.

"Please Professor," Mark pleaded. "Marcus isn't -" he hesitated. "Marcus is -"

Harry raised his hand to stop the boy. They couldn't risk it. The Wards had already compromised enough. They couldn't afford what further trauma could do to Ginny. He slowly moved his hand, indicating at the same time, his request for him to keep his secret and also bidding farewell.

"No, you can't do this!" Mark yelled furiously at Ginny. "You can't throw him to Malfoy! You can't!"

Harry closed his eyes to hide himself from the agony in his young friend's face, and to shield himself from the coldness in Ginny's relentless gaze. He turned around and walked to the perimeter.

"Stop."

Harry froze, but didn't turn around. The voice was Ginny's but it held nothing but bitterness and anger.

"You may leave through the same route by which you first came."

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice. He turned and set one final glance on the woman he loved and had thoroughly wronged.

"I'll walk with you," Mark said suddenly.

"You'll come with me, Mark Evans," Ginny hissed.

Harry's heart ached. Not wanting to be the cause of a rift between the two, Harry remained silent and walked towards the forest.

"No."

Harry was surprised by the power laced in Mark's voice.

"You have no idea what a big mistake you're making. But I won't make the same mistake. I won't leave the Wards and I'll be back, yes, but I won't let him leave like this, all alone and friendless. No, not again."

Harry heard Mark's footsteps. He felt strange warmth within when Mark clutched his hand. The little kid was every bit a brother to him, and Harry couldn't deny the happiness he felt with his strong support. They walked in silence for a long time. Finally, Harry sighed.

"What happened, Mark? How did this happen?"

Mark's tone surprised Harry. "Chang," he spat out. "Chang was making secret negotiations with the Monarch. She convinced Flitwick that Ginny was being foolish and should accept Malfoy's proposal. Before we knew what was happening, Death Eaters and Dementors were all around. Professor Ginny closed the Wards before too many could enter."

"Where were the others?" Harry asked bitterly. "Why was she fighting all alone?"

"Professor Creevey and a few others were injured early on. Gabrielle and some other students took him inside. Healer Bones is treating him. Flitwick, on realizing he had been manipulated into betraying Hogwarts, jumped off the Astronomy Tower. Professor Wood took a curse meant for Professor Ginny. He fell."

"As brave as a Gryffindor," Harry muttered. "What about the refugees from Flourish and Botts?"

"Dung was injured and removed from the battlefield. The others are too heavily injured to be of any help." There was silence. "What do we do now, Harry?"

Harry smiled. "Feels good to be called by that name," he said. His smile faltered as he pondered on the question. "I have no idea," he admitted. He put his hands on Mark's shoulders. "Stay with her, Mark. Keep an eye on her, but don't tell her anything. You have something good going here, Mark. You have the potential to thoroughly outplay the enemy. The refugees will heal. Dung will teach you survivor skills better than Chang ever could have. Stay here."

"I will," Mark promised.

"Good lad," Harry said, with a smile. Then he turned to the Whomping Willow, and left without another word.

He emerged from the Shrieking Shack with Mark's question repeating in his head.

"_What do we do now, Harry?"_

"_How could you do this to me?"_

"Get a grip, Potter," Harry told himself. Not trusting himself to apparate, he walked haphazardly. What could he do? Everything he had done was tumbling around him.

"_I won'__t let him leave like this, all alone and friendless. No, not again."_

Harry smiled, warmth rising in him again. He suddenly realized why Sirius Black, despite spending more than a decade in Azkaban, had managed to survive the ordeal. Mark walking back with him was exactly what would save him from falling back into despair. He hadn't failed.

Fawkes was back.

Mark Evans was the Spymaster of Hogwarts.

There were three new Defenders of Hogwarts.

Victoire Weasley was with her aunts.

Marcus Flint was established as a supporter of Hogwarts.

No, Harry hadn't failed at all. The only thing he had failed to do was to make Ginny fall in love with Marcus Flint. "And that's because she loves Harry Potter too much," he said out loud, and laughed. No, he hadn't failed at all. Warmth flooded through him, and he knew exactly what he had to do. "The Order of the Phoenix will be reassembled."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 - Rise of the Phoenix**

The sun shone brightly in the horizon. Ottery St. Catchpole was a village in ruins. Harry Potter stood in the blackened debris of the Burrow and mourned. The Weasleys had given up on him, true, but how could he blame them? Wouldn't he too have believed had one of them confessed to a crime under Veritaserum? No, he couldn't blame them for Voldemort's trickery. That would be like the petrified students in his second year blaming Ginny for their ordeals.

He would remember them as they were once. Ron, the bumbling idiot, who stuck by him through the harshest of dangers. Hermione Granger, the insufferable know-it-all, who overcame her fear of breaking rules to stand by him whenever required. Fred and George, two free spirits, who were probably wreaking havoc in the after-life with the Marauders. Charlie and Bill, he didn't know too well, but they were as good as family too. Percy? He strayed, but from what he had heard, Percy fought and died, standing beside his father. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who had always welcomed him as a son.

The Burrow was as home to him. Perhaps someday it would be rebuilt.

Harry waited silently until he saw the lonely figure approach. He felt a cold shiver inside, not like the cold of Azkaban, no, this was the cold of anticipation. The last breath before the plunge, so to speak.

"Welcome," Harry muttered. "We are waiting for another. Then we will move to Godric's Hollow."

If his companion felt any curiosity at their next location, she hid it. In silence, they waited. Several minutes ticked by before a middle aged man walked to them. The man had a closed expression on his face, as if he didn't want to be there.

"Welcome, Amos Diggory," said Harry. "This is Luna Lovegood."

Diggory nodded curtly. "The only reason I came here is to ask you to stop bothering me with your phoenix." He looked a bit disgusted with himself. "I didn't join the battle after my son was killed. Why should I join now?"

Harry looked at him sternly. "You were grieving then," he said. "Now, your grief has turned into cold anger. The murderer of your son is ruling as the Monarch of your land. Surely, you want to do something about it."

Diggory glared at his shoes. "I have nothing to live for," he said. "My son is dead. My wife is dead. My only hope is to join them in heaven."

"What if there is no heaven?" Luna sighed. "What if all this waiting is useless, and after your death, you find yourself as a newborn baby without any memories of your past life? A newborn baby born to a servant of the Monarch, raised to be an obedient servant to the Monarch."

Diggory stared at the girl with shock.

Harry raised his hand. "Luna," he said sharply. Turning to Diggory, he said, "I cannot force you to do anything. If your sole wish is to wither away in your little home, waiting for death to find you in old age - full of misery and loneliness, then go ahead. I won't stop you. I hope you are correct in your hopes and are reunited with your family in the afterlife." He paused. "However, there is a small chance that you might be able to bring the war to your enemies, to cause some damage to the bastard that killed your son for no better reason than that he strayed the path of one man. You may die earlier, perhaps most certainly, but in a much better way - with your head held high, your eyes blazing with pride and ears ringing with words of glory - I did it, I did it…"

Diggory froze. He looked at Harry curiously. "Who are you?"

Luna giggled. "That's obvious, silly. He's the successor of Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter."

Diggory sighed. "I don't know if I will be of much use, but by Merlin, you have stirred something in me, lad."

Harry grinned. "Brilliant. I could use with your experience in making portkeys." Diggory nodded. "Do you know Godric's Hollow? We have to pick someone up from there next."

Diggory was surprised at the next location but he didn't say anything. Instead, he removed his glove and cast a spell on it. He prodded it forward for Harry and Luna to touch it as well, and then activated it, taking all three to Godric's Hollow.

Harry gazed from one broken home to another. Godric's Hollow, however, saddened him the less. He had no memories of the place, other than those induced by Dementors. He knew, definitely, that he would never rebuild the house or stay there, if he ever even got the opportunity.

The person they were supposed to meet was already there. Harry saw a man crouched in the back garden in front of two graves. He gestured for the others to stay and slowly walked towards him.

"Remus Lupin," Harry said coldly.

"In person," the man returned with equal frigidity. "Allow me another minute of silence and I will join you."

Harry remained silent as he observed the man. But then he frowned when Lupin started whispering.

"I still wonder what those words mean: the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death." Lupin was reading from the tombstone. "How can one fight death? Why would one want to?" Harry chose not to respond, for Lupin was speaking more to himself than to anyone else. "Death is no longer a predator but an elusive prey, and I am the hunter that seeks to end his hunger."

Lupin sighed. "Forgive me Prongs, Lily, Padfoot. I have failed you completely. Forgive me, Harry. I wish I had been a better man."

Harry frowned. He had to cut it in the bud this time, or else the same problem that had occurred with Ginny might happen with him too. He said slowly, "I was with him when he died."

Lupin whirled around at tremendous speed.

Harry lowered his eyes, recalling his last moments. The curses, the torture, Azkaban. He closed his eyes painfully.

"_You -- murderer!"_

Harry opened his eyes, shocking both himself and the man in front, by the glistening tears that had emerged. "He was a tortured soul."

Lupin rubbed his forehead.

"I couldn't bear to see him suffer so I averted my gaze," Harry said slowly. It was a lie but a necessary one. "In the end, his eyes and face begged for only one thing." That was true, he knew it very well. "They begged for freedom from the suffering. They were on me, for I was the only one who hadn't taken part in the torture."

Lupin paled. "Did you?"

Harry nodded, averting his gaze. "I did. Will that make working with me a problem?"

Lupin spat in the ground. "I am a wolf, Flint. For more than a year, I have lived in the wild with a pack of wolves. Sometimes, the young hurt themselves too hard during the full moon. I understand the need to end suffering. It is one I live with every month."

Harry was relieved. "Ginny Weasley cast me out of Hogwarts when she found out. Though the Wards will accept me in, I will not go against her wishes."

"What were his final words, Flint?" asked Lupin softly.

Harry looked away, trying to recall it himself. Strangely, it was from Flint's memory that he got the answer. There were no words. Only laughter and tears. He sighed.

"His last words were incoherent. His last meaningful words were to Ginny Weasley, shortly before his death when she had broken into Azkaban. He said he loved her. That is how you should remember him."

Lupin looked at Flint for several seconds. Then, he nodded. "Thank you. I believe I can work with you."

Harry nodded. It would be harder for him to work with Lupin, but he had to. There was no option for him. If Sirius Black could let go of the betrayal, then so would he. But it didn't mean their relationship had to go back to the way it used to be. He led Lupin back to Diggory and Luna. They all shook hands.

"Our next stop is Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," said Harry, noticing Lupin's shock. "Remus, if you apparate with Amos, I will come with Luna."

"How do you know of Grimmauld Place?"

Harry shook his head. "That is irrelevant and a waste of good time," he said. "We are being expected by others and are already delayed."

Grimmauld Place had changed since the last time Harry had been there, but as it was the only defensible place which was not in ruins and accessible to Harry, it had to do. Marcus Flint's house was under permanent watch and he had to relinquish it. Not that Harry was complaining. After all, Grimmauld Place had a portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, a former Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Harry opened the door. "Ladies first," he smiled at Luna, who walked in.

"BLOOD TRAITORS -- FILTH!"

Harry moved inside. He had forgotten to silence the portrait. But before he could raise his wand, he decided against it. No, there was something else he could do.

"Do you know who I am?" Harry asked the portrait of Walburga Black.

"You are a Flint!" she said, suddenly confused. "But you are also the master of this house. How can that be?"

"I will tell you," said Harry. "I'm master of this house because that madman you believe to be the messiah for purebloods has wiped out the Blacks. He killed Regulus. He has converted Bellatrix into a raving whore who killed Sirius. He has made Narcissa and her family slave to his every whim."

"HOW DARE YOU --"

"Look before you, you foolish hag!" Harry yelled back. "I'm the last of the Flints. With me are the last surviving members of several pureblood families - Lovegood, Diggory, Lupin."

"BLOOD TRAITORS -"

"The Potters are wiped out," he continued. "The Blacks are gone. So many pureblood families - McKinnon, Prewett, Patil, Crouch… Were they all blood traitors? Was Regulus Black a blood traitor?" He could see his words taking effect. "The very existence of pureblood families is at stake. So many families are down to their very last members. Other than us, there is Longbottom, Weasley, Dodge, Greengrass, Bones…"

"All because of one man?"

"All because of a halfblood called Tom Riddle, who has hidden behind the false names of Lord Voldemort and the Monarch."

Walburga Black's portrait looked confused and a bit lost. Finally, she sat back in defeat.

Harry nodded. Without another word, he walked into the meeting room. He was aware of the impact his little conversation had on those who had come with him and others who were present. He looked at the number of attendees. It was small. But it would suffice.

"Welcome," he said. "I am Marcus Flint. I used to be a Death Eater, until I witnessed the torture of Harry Potter. I gave him a merciful death. Then, I rescued Gabrielle Delacour, drove back an attack on Hogwarts and reunited Victoire Weasley to her aunt, the Lady of Hogwarts."

There was silence.

"I wish to join the Order of the Phoenix."

Suddenly, everyone looked at him in surprise.

"Join?" asked Diggory in surprise. "I thought you were leading us."

Harry's eyes darkened. "Since I am initiating this, yes, today I will chair the meeting. But we need another leader. You might be willing, Amos, but not everyone will be led by a former Death Eater. Not everyone will forgive me for killing Harry Potter."

"He speaks, of course, of Ginny Weasley," Phineas Nigellus spoke from his portrait. "May I intimate the Spymaster of Hogwarts of your safe arrival?"

Harry grinned. Everyone else gasped in surprise at knowing that Hogwarts had a spymaster. "Please do. I trust the Spymaster is well since our last meeting?"

"Following your last meeting, there was a little demonstration of temper that thoroughly outclassed that of Mr. Harry Potter during his fifth year, but yes, I believe he is quite well."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"_I'__ll walk with you."_

Mark would be fine, he was brave.

Harry spoke again. "We have here Elphias Dodge, who has secretly provided sanctuary to many muggleborn witches and wizards. Luna Lovegood, who fought a valiant battle against the lies of the Daily Prophet until the Monarch triumphed. Amos Diggory, from whom the first blood was drawn after Voldemort's second rise. Remus Lupin, who has been part of this organization since the first rise of Voldemort." He paused for breath. "We also have Daphne Greengrass, the last of her family." He turned to the girl, allowing her to introduce herself.

"Indeed." Her voice was as cold as ice. "The Monarch handed my sister to Malfoy and myself to Snape." There was an angry growl from Remus Lupin. "I was fortunate, for Ginny Weasley killed Snape two nights after… My sister, however… she was deemed to be an inconvenience when the Monarch decided he would rather see Malfoy in Hogwarts as Ginny Weasley's husband. She was eliminated."

Harry nodded. He didn't show any sympathy, it wasn't needed, not to that woman. He continued. "So far, the only opposition the Monarch has faced is from Hogwarts. Ginny Weasley has carried the war almost single handed. We should aid her by giving the Monarch something new to fear. Establish a second front of resistance, so to speak, divide his resources, strike with guerrilla tactics and bleed him in as many places as possible. Is everyone in agreement?"

When there weren't any objections, Harry continued, "I nominate Remus Lupin to be leader of the resurrected Order of the Phoenix."

Lupin growled. "I will not," he said angrily. "I may have all that experience you spoke of, but underlying it is the incontrovertible fact that I am weak. I have allowed others to die, while I survive. I have stood back, and allowed my pack to be thrown in cages, while I did nothing. I have failed at every single responsibility entrusted on me."

Harry gazed coldly at Lupin. "I will not argue with any of that," he said. "I will however tell you to stop being selfish. Your image is a necessary resource for us. It will help convince others that we are indeed what we claim to be. Look at the rest of us? Does any of us look like an adequate replacement to Albus Dumbledore? You, on the other hand, have been part of this struggle since the very beginning. Your loyalty to Dumbledore is unquestionable."

Lupin remained silent for a long time.

"I agree with Flint," said Daphne. "If rumors are correct, then you have lived in the forest for some time. We could do with the animalistic fury you will bring to us."

"I also agree, Remus," said Diggory. "But not for those reasons. You have made many mistakes, and you realize that. Therefore, you are the best among us to not repeat those mistakes."

Luna also nodded, and then Elphias Dodge.

Lupin glared at Harry for a moment, but acquiesced with a single nod. "You have more to say," he said simply.

Harry had more to say. "I will not reveal the identity of the Spymaster of Hogwarts. But it is easy to identify if a message is from the Spymaster." He looked surreptitiously at Phineas Nigellus, who nodded. The very next moment, Fawkes appeared.

"The Spymaster will send messages through Fawkes," said Harry. "Looks like he has sent one now." Harry picked the letter and read out.

"Dear Order of the Phoenix

I trust all is well and Flint has convinced Lupin to take leadership. If not, then I urge Mr. Lupin to reconsider his decision and recall the vow he had given to Albus Dumbledore.

The casualties from the previous attack on Hogwarts are limited to Filius Flitwick and Oliver Wood, who died a hero, and Cho Chang, who ran away, a traitor. The Lady of Hogwarts is in a bad shape over certain revelations regarding Marcus Flint and Harry Potter. However, her gratitude for the safe return of her niece is boundless. The Monarch has been pressing her to accept his proposal for her to wed Draco Malfoy. The Lady, I am afraid, is wavering. The loss of Flitwick and Flint has left her without anyone to cling to for support."

Harry paused, guilt soaring within him like an erupting volcano. He noticed the dark expression on Daphne Greengrass' face and forced himself to continue reading. Others had as severe problems as he.

"A little phoenix informs me that the goblins are losing their favor towards the Monarch. Another phoenix informs me that Remus Lupin's werewolf pack has increased in number. Infecting Neville Longbottom was not a wise idea, Remus. Ginny needs him here."

Harry stopped reading and glared at Lupin.

Lupin, however, shrugged. "He was told not to stray outside the den on full moon nights."

Harry paused at the tone of the man's voice. He was genuinely not bothered that he had infected Neville. Living a year in the wild had changed him.

"Inside the cave, he was safe behind a line of silver dust. The cave has much silver which he could have used to fight, even kill, any werewolf that entered. It is our way of keeping trusted guests safe. He didn't reciprocate our trust and came out. He strayed into our territory during the time of our curse."

Harry pondered his final words. Hadn't Flint strayed into _his_ territory at the time of _his _curse? He nodded at Lupin. Some things were beyond a person's control. He continued reading.

"Several phoenixes speak of the Monarch's fury at Flint's betrayal and Bellatrix Lestrange's failure. Lestrange has sworn to kill Flint." Harry chuckled. That hardly made his life any different from how it used to be as Harry Potter. "That's all, folks. Although, a little phoenix here in Hogwarts would be very happy to restock his supply of lemon drops."

Harry groaned. He looked accusingly at Fawkes, as if it were the bird's fault.


	9. Chapter 8

Thanks for the reviews.

**Chapter 8 - I Am Become Death**

The mission was uppermost in his mind. Harry looked at his companion, as she walked stiffly beside him. In some ways, she was so much like Ginny - beauty, strength, power. Yet, the similarities made the differences all the more glaring. There was coldness in her that made her a complete contrast to Ginny. Ginny was fire, Daphne was ice.

"Do you want to stop for lunch?" Harry asked. He himself was fine, but spoke out of concern for the girl. They were outside a pub, and the smell of roast chicken was very strong.

Daphne shook her head. "You can go if you want. I will wait outside."

Harry sighed. "No, forget it." Their mission was important. It would be good to get it done with as fast as possible. "You clear on our individual roles?"

"I will distract the guards while you free the prisoners. On your signal, we all retreat."

Harry nodded. She was clear and succinct. How they did their own bits was up to the individual. They were planning to storm into a minor prison, to begin with. It only held a handful of rebellious muggleborn witches and wizards, those who had never posed any real threat to the Monarch, but had annoyed him enough to have them imprisoned.

But every additional hand was welcome. They had to grow their forces in small amounts before they could storm any of the major prisons.

"You have changed, Flint."

Harry was surprised by Daphne's admission. Not knowing what else to say, he shrugged. "So have you."

"Surprisingly, true." Daphne's voice was as cool as ever. "Earlier, you would never stop harassing me for sex, and I would never yield. Now, you seem to be one of the nicer guys around. But you don't seem to be attracted to me at all."

Harry was stumped. Not knowing what to say, he grunted. Flint's memories assaulted him. He had indeed been after the girl in Hogwarts. Sighing, he said, "Perhaps I fell in love with someone."

"This Weasley girl," Daphne said. "I hope she is worth it. You've thrown aside a comfortable life and joined in a fool's quest with the rest of us victims of the Monarch when you needn't have. I hope she is worth it."

Harry was beginning to get slightly worried. Daphne's voice wasn't just cold, it was detached. So completely detached that it reminded Harry of himself during his Azkaban relapses. He looked at her in concern. He had heard from Elphias Dodge about her situation and that Narcissa Malfoy had managed to spirit her away to her paternal home. As he wanted to use Grimmauld Place as base of operations, involving her was necessary, not that it was a problem, considering the intensity of her hatred towards the Monarch.

"It was a foolish hope," Harry said simply, "that Voldemort could give anything but a world of slavery and suffering."

"Yet, so many fell for it," said Daphne. "Including you and I." They walked in silence for a while. "Do you remember your final year? I was in my fourth year."

"What about it?"

Daphne didn't say anything for a moment.

Harry suddenly realized what she was doing. She was testing him, suspicious that he might not be Marcus Flint. He tried to focus and bring back Flint's memory. What he saw disgusted him. Suddenly, he was scared. He was alone in a secluded area with a dangerous woman who had every reason to hate him. He had been careless again, not figuring out how each individual would react to Marcus Flint.

"I took your younger sister's virginity because you denied me yours," Harry whispered in horror. "And I gloated about it to you for a month."

Daphne didn't say a word.

"I have changed," Harry said, wondering how many of Marcus Flint's crimes may come to haunt him. "I know there is nothing I can do to make up for it -"

"There is something."

Harry looked at her.

"I want to hear Lucius Malfoy scream," Daphne hissed, emotion creeping into her voice for the first time, utter hate. "No matter how filthy your actions were in Hogwarts, for some peculiar way, she adored you. She never lost her smile until she was forced into the Malfoy household."

"I give you my word," Harry promised. "Lucius Malfoy will pay and you will be there to witness it."

Her features relaxed slightly. "Then, let us kick some butt."

Harry grinned at her. They were very close to their destination. He waited in his position, safely concealed by an illusioning charm, while Daphne went ahead. After a few minutes, Harry followed. He grinned when he saw Daphne had lured the guards to a corner by giving them a more than generous view of her body, and he slunk in under the charms towards the prison cells.

It was dark. He had to enter the dungeons. He didn't cast any noisy magic as he maneuvered his way through. But he did cast a Lumos, which signaled to the prisoners of his presence.

"Remain silent while I speak. The Order of the Phoenix has been reformed," said Harry. "I am here to free you." He quickly cut through the prison locks and bars. "Here are portkeys." He handed them a phoenix pendant each. "The activation code is Albus Dumbledore."

By the time he reached the last prisoner, the others had left. Harry peered through the prison and got a massive shock. "You're alive?" he asked in disbelief.

In front of him was lying Bill Weasley. True, he looked very little like the impressive curse breaker Harry had met, especially with his blonde hair, but it was Bill. Harry could recognize his face.

"You know me?" asked Bill in wonder. "Before falling, I changed my hair and eye color. I was taken for a common muggleborn by the enemy. Who are you?"

Harry's eyes dimmed. "A friend." He closed his eyes. "This is too much." He picked up another pendant from within and used the charm Amos Diggory had taught them. "Portus." The pendant shimmered blue. "Here. The activation code is your sister's full name."

"Ginny!" Bill gasped. "She is alive?"

Harry didn't want to think about her. "My friend is outside. I have to go. The portkey will take you to the Shrieking Shack. Find your way to the Whomping Willow through underground routes. There is a knot which stops the tree. When you encounter a barrier, keep your mind cool, think about Ginny and Dumbledore, and walk through the wards. You will find your sister."

Bill gaped at Harry in disbelief. "How can I thank you for this?"

There was only one way. "Nothing more than what your heart already yearns. Stay with your sister. Guard her with your life. Don't let her make any foolish decisions. Keep an eye on your sister-in-law. Watch your daughter grow."

"Gabrielle is alive? I have a daughter?" Bill croaked. "Please don't torture me so."

"Her name is Victoire," said Harry. "Go, quickly." But before Bill could depart, Harry grabbed him by the collar roughly. "Don't let Ginny marry Malfoy! They will destroy her, you hear me? Don't let her do it!"

Bill stared at Harry for a long moment, as he walked towards the exit. "Can I take any message from you to her?"

Harry paused. He thought for a moment. Sighing, he said, "Tell her I'm sorry. Remind her of my oaths. Tell her… ask her what was it about Harry Potter that was lacking in Marcus Flint?" he asked in frustration, but then he froze. He was being selfish again. "No, don't ask her that. Just tell her I'm sorry."

Harry walked out and his heart skipped a beat. He had tarried for too long. The guards had Daphne trapped, stripped and bound. More than that, Bellatrix Lestrange was with them, taunting and mocking Daphne Greengrass. Harry felt something snap inside him.

Perhaps it was because of Daphne's willingness to overlook Flint's atrocious acts and give him a second chance. Perhaps it was simply his aversion to any form of molestation. Harry raised his wand, his faithful Phoenix Feather wand. Bellatrix Lestrange looked fearsome. He only had a sixth year education, and he wasn't even very good at that, plus some additional memories from Flint. But he didn't care anymore.

Bill would look after Ginny; he could trust him to do that.

"Confringo!" He used Flint's favorite curse. He liked playing with fire.

But the element of surprise didn't work for him. Bellatrix summoned one of the guards in the path, who burnt to crisp instantly. She looked at him gleefully.

"Well, well, well," she chimed. "If it isn't little Flinty. The rest of you stay away." She warned the other prison guards. "He is mine."

"Incendio!" Harry cast.

Bellatrix simply slapped it away with a flick of her wand. "I have been looking for you," she hummed in a sing song voice. "Your little game cost me the Monarch's favor, Flinty. That wasn't very nice of you."

"Sectumsempra!"

"Ooh, little baby wants to play," Bellatrix swayed out of the path of the curse. "One last free shot, Flint. One last free shot."

"Incarcerous."

"Nice," said Bellatrix as ropes surrounded her. "I wasn't expecting a year two spell." She closed her eyes and the ropes just seemed to vanish. "You have a lot to learn, little baby. You duel like a fifth year student."

Harry gulped. She was so true. He moved to a side for a better angle. "Stupefy."

"Ha." Bellatrix jumped aside. "Crucio."

Harry dodged it. "Confringo."

Bellatrix summoned another prison guard in the path. "My turn, Baby Marcus. _Crucio_," she sang. "_Crucio_! again." She tutted when Harry jumped out of the path. "Uh uh. _Crucio_ is good for you."

The third one was the one which Harry couldn't avoid. But to his surprise the pain of the Crucio seemed dampened. He frowned. It was painful, true, extremely painful, but nothing as bad as the experience he had with Voldemort putting the same curse on him. Was it because Voldemort had more power? Or was it because what he had suffered in Azkaban was beyond a couple of Cruciatus Curses?

He didn't know why, but the curse didn't affect him that bad. But he still closed his eyes. Bellatrix was correct. He was hopeless when it came to dueling against one as experienced and powerful as her. Both she and Voldemort seemed to be able to deflect curses and do magic without even thinking.

With his eyes closed, he focused on Flint's memories. Surely, Flint must know something.

"_That Bellatrix… isn'__t she something, Flint?"_

"_Yes, Rabastan."_

"_Now don'__t go all __'__Yes, Rabastan__'__ on me. I know very well you__'__ve slept with her too."_

"_Yes, Rabastan."_

"_She really is something. Can cast a Crucio as na__sty as… no, you didn__'__t hear me say that. But if she does have a weakness, it__'__s with any mind magic. A good Imperio would out her faster than…"_

"_Rabastan, you'__ve drunk enough. Let__'__s go back."_

Harry bid his time. He took a deep breath, fiddling his wand. The Cruciatus hurt, but he could tune the pain out. It was nothing as bad as the Azkaban cold that swept through him. "Confundus!" he sent, and miraculously, the pain left.

"Where am I? Oh, Daphne, sweetheart. Here, take this robe. You might catch a cold," Bellatrix rushed to the naked girl.

He had done it. He stood up. Out of the eight prison guards, six were still alive. Harry observed the charred remains of the other two he had killed, albeit accidentally. Surprisingly, he didn't feel too affected by their deaths. After all, his first kill was at the tender age of eleven. He raised his wand.

He looked at Daphne, still tied up, but no longer naked. Then he turned viciously to the guards. But before he could cast a curse, he heard those dreaded words.

"Avada Kedavra."

Bellatrix Lestrange had only been feigning and waiting for Harry to throw off his guard. Harry's vision darkened, and he felt a familiar searing pain in his chest, and all he could think was, 'No! Not again! Not her!'

But fate would not be denied, nor would Dumbledore's curse. As Marcus Flint's vision dimmed, so did Bellatrix Lestrange's. But as he died, Harry's vision dimmed at first, and then became clearer, and the perspective shifted. He gazed into the shocked and disbelieving eyes on Marcus Flint's body as Bellatrix Lestrange looked at him, moments before she breathed her last in a foreign body.

Dumbledore's Gift had claimed its second victim.

Harry was confused. He had thought it was a one-off thing, not something perpetual.

"_Remember my l__ast, Harry Potter. This curse will not release you until Hogwarts is secured from all its foes."_

He felt cold as he understood the full implication of those words. Did it mean he couldn't die? Immortality, was it a gift or a curse? But it wasn't truly immortality, was it, being enslaved to a different body. He looked at himself and shuddered.

Bellatrix Lestrange. She was perhaps one of the five persons he hated the most, the others being Voldemort, Lucius and Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape. Being trapped in her body was not going to be pleasant. For one, who would believe Bellatrix Lestrange to be repentant of her crimes. And even if she were, who would forgive her?

No, Harry was screwed. He could not return to the Order of the Phoenix. Or to Hogwarts.

"Mistress Lestrange?"

Harry turned his head, feeling Bellatrix's long hair swoosh around uncomfortably. Despite her insanity, she smelt very pleasant. He took a deep breath and reflected. He felt sick doing so, but to not use this new resource pool would be foolish.

Bellatrix Lestrange was correct. He was hopeless when it came to magic. But now he had access to her every memory. He grinned. He knew exactly which curse he would use on the guards. It only needed to be cast once and it would take care of all six guards. In fact, the worrying thing would have been if there had been fewer foes.

"Fiendfyre!" Harry sent, and saw the shock and horror in the eyes of the guards, as a devilish green flame emerged. It took the shape of a grim, to Harry's surprise, and raged from each person to the next, completely consuming their flesh and bones. Something else that surprised Harry was that Bellatrix rarely used that curse. It was as if Flint's affection for fire merged with Bellatrix's affinity of dark curses.

Harry was shocked. He had just taken six lives without hesitation. He took a step back. Bellatrix Lestrange had a sick mind, a sick disposition towards life. He was being affected by it. He understood just exactly what was happening.

Marcus Flint had been a weak yes-man to the senior Death Eaters. Bellatrix Lestrange was anything but weak. After the Monarch and Lucius Malfoy, she was the most terrible of his foes.

Harry closed his eyes, trying not to relish the screams of the prison guards in front of him. They had to die, but not in such a ghastly manner. Fiendfyre was a most painful curse, a sort of a combination of Cruciatus and Avada Kedavra, so to speak. But what had been done couldn't be undone.

Harry opened his eyes. The fire grim was staring at him in satisfaction. Harry nodded and it disappeared. When all that remained of the prison guards was ash, Harry turned to face Daphne, who was completely terrified. To Harry's shock, he also detected a tear in her eye, as her gaze flicked down to Marcus Flint.

"Diffindo," he cut off her binds. He looked at her squarely in the eyes, "I gave you my word. Lucius Malfoy will scream and you will be there to witness it. Keep my secret to yourself alone." He needed an ally within the Order.

Daphne gasped and took a step back, staring at the mad witch in a new light.

Harry turned around. The Order would have to make do without him. They had Remus Lupin to guide them. Hogwarts would have to make do without him. They had the two Weasleys and a Spymaster. He had a new task. He had to learn magic from Bellatrix Lestrange's memories. He had to become powerful, to become someone who wouldn't fight like a foolish fifth year student. He needed to become a real threat to the Monarch.

Being Bellatrix was disgusting, but oddly, he also found it intriguing as well. She knew so much about the enemy. She had such vast knowledge of magic. All of it was now his.

"Who are you?"

Harry turned around. Daphne was looking at him, and her cold and indifferent mask was thoroughly pierced by fear, confusion and hope. Harry smiled at her. He wasn't sure how it would appear on the face he was currently wearing, but from Daphne's sudden stiffening, he knew it wasn't as peaceful as he intended it to be.

So, who was he truly?

"Who am I… Interesting question, Daphne," he called out to her. "You see, the thing is I have never been the same person for long. I have been a freak, a saviour, a champion, a traitor, a corpse, a Death Eater, a warrior… I have been so many things that I don't know what my identity truly is," he whispered. "But what is important to me is to figure out who or what sort of person I am right now… What do I want to do next? Where do I want to go from here? Who do I want to kill?"

Daphne gaped at him.

"Kill?" he wondered out loud. "Am I really beginning to acquire this madwoman's blood thirst?" Harry frowned but then he grinned viciously. "No, just her memories. She does have some interesting techniques that I, the real me, wants to experiment on my foes." Harry shuddered. He knew exactly what he was.

"I am become death," he muttered, "a destroyer of worlds. Now, where did Bellatrix read that?"


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8 - Burdens  
**

The phoenix trilled reprovingly. The boy glared back. He picked up another lemon drop and popped it in his mouth, and looked at the bird smugly, as if daring the phoenix to stop him. Fawkes gave a trill that could have passed for a sigh and flew back to its perch.

"Looks like Fawkes just gave up on you, Master Evans," said Dumbledore, with a benign smile from his portrait.

Mark's pleasant expression vanished and he stared at Dumbledore blankly. He had no affection for Dumbledore.

Dumbledore sighed. "I wish to relay information from St. Mungo's. Frank Longbottom has finally succumbed to his mental illness." Mark had a curious look on his face. "Frank was your Professor Neville Longbottom's father. He was tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch nearly two decades ago with his wife."

"Lestrange," Mark hissed. After a second, he sighed. "Albus gets another point, guys. He's in the lead again. Come on, you can do better than this. Armando, anything?"

Armando Dippet's portait sighed regretfully and shook its head.

"I have something," Phineas Nigellus said blandly. "Though I doubt you'd want to give points for this. Word has just reached Grimmauld Place… Marcus Flint was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange."

Mark felt his insides go cold. "No," he whispered.

"Unfortunately, yes," said the portrait. "The brave man saved the prisoners and then he fought Bellatrix Lestrange to save his partner. He died but allowed Daphne Greengrass to escape."

"No, this can't be," Mark gasped. "He can't die!" Mark turned to Dumbledore. "He can't die!"

Dumbledore lowered his eyes.

"Tell me, Dumbledore!" Mark yelled. He raised his wand and cast a privacy charm to shield their conversation from the rest of the portraits. "Is Harry alive?"

"I do not know," Dumbledore admitted. "The Quickening works on randomness. If Harry was killed by a random act, then yes, he lives in the body of his murderer. But if he deliberately died or tried to make things happen in a specific way, then no."

Mark narrowed his eyes. "Great. I have no way of telling now."

"You have Fawkes," Dumbledore reminded him.

Mark sighed. "Harry isn't deceitful. I must believe he's still alive. I have to believe it."

Dumbledore smiled at him. "Faith and hope are indeed the most powerful weapons you can have. And love."

"Shut up," said Mark. "I doubt you did anything you did to Harry out of love! Your meddling has been the cause of all his woes!"

Dumbledore's eyes dimmed. "And yet despite everything I did and everything that has happened to him, he is still capable of loving Ginny Weasley so much."

Mark looked with a disturbed expression at Dumbledore. He removed the privacy charm and ignored the protests from the other Headmasters and Headmistresses. Instead, he informed them, "It might interest you to know that Bill Weasley is recovering. He was overcome emotionally to see Ginny, Gabrielle and Victoire alive. However, his tale has only made Professor Ginny relapse into a greater depression."

"The news of Flint's death will devastate her," said McGonagall sadly.

"I know," said Mark. "However, it will be worse should she find out during battle. I will tell her myself." He picked up a quill and started writing. He read out loud for the portraits to listen and advise accordingly. He didn't notice it, but all the former Headmasters and Headmistresses had become extremely fond of him.

"To the Order

I am most aggrieved to hear of Marcus Flint's untimely death. He was a dear friend of mine and achieved much in the past few weeks."

"Not mentioning a timeframe would be better," said Armando Dippet. "It will make others imagine he was on our side for much longer period than he actually was."

Mark nodded. "He was a dear friend of mine and has achieved much. I am certain he would greatly appreciate being buried near Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter. As we have learnt, Fawkes is able to transport lifeless bodies, and will do so with Marcus Flint." He turned to the portraits. "Any other news?"

Newt Scamander nodded. "I spoke to a fellow portrait in the old Ministry building. Apparently, some mysterious person has killed several Death Eaters."

"Who all are dead?"

"The Carrows, Crabbe and Goyle."

Mark frowned. "So, in short, the four who had tortured Hermione Granger?" he asked to the room in general. There was silence, although some of the elderly portraits raised their eyebrows at his joining the lines and connecting the deceased with their former victim so quickly. He quickly jotted that down. "A little phoenix has witnessed vengeance finally coming to those who tortured Hermione Granger. The identity of the perpetrator, alas, is not known."

"Any other news?" asked Mark.

Dilys Derwent nodded eagerly. "Yes, Master Evans," she said. "In my portrait in St. Mungo's, I overheard a healer express her disgust with the Monarch. It was subtle, but it was there. Her name was Miriam Wilkes."

Mark turned to McGonagall and Dumbledore.

"Miss Wilkes," McGonagall said thoughtfully, "was a quiet Slytherin, very deft in spell casting and very intolerant of below average students. Other than that, I do not recall any prejudice in her."

"She was together with a boy from Hufflepuff for a good part of her senior years," said Dumbledore. "If memory serves right, the boy was a first generation pureblood, and hence, not better than a halfblood in the eyes of many."

"That's good enough," said Mark, and began writing again. "Phoenixes also reveal that Miriam Wilkes, a healer in St. Mungo's, could be a potential new recruit. Tread with care and send your best members to impress her."

He waited for more news. When nothing came, he finished the letter.

"Marcus Flint's last act of bravery was to rescue Bill Weasley from the prison and send him to his sister and daughter. The Lady of Hogwarts is overcome to have her lost brother back. That's all for now from me, folks.

The S of H

P.S. Do not worry, Marcus Flint's body will be treated with utmost respect and care. He was as a brother to me."

Mark handed the letter to Fawkes. "Come with Flint's body, Fawkes. Not here, bring him to the Hospital Wing. But give me at least half an hour so I can break the news to Ginny gently."

"I wish it weren't so."

Mark turned to face McGonagall, who was looking at him fondly.

"How I wish it weren't so that one as young as you must shoulder the responsibilities that we older people have failed to do," said McGonagall, with a hint of a tear.

Mark shrugged. "I can't complain," he said, "when there are others with much greater responsibilities struggling even harder." He glared at Dumbledore again.

Dumbledore sighed and watched the young boy retreat sadly.

Mark approached the Hospital Wing. He saw Gabrielle standing outside and took her hand. "You all right?"

The girl nodded, but blinked back a tear. "Things seem to be getting better finally," she said. "First, _he_ came back. Then, Victoire. Now, Bill." She looked at Mark's clouded expression.

"Come with me," he said. "There's some bad news. But please, when you hear it, remember what happened the previous time somebody killed him." He saw Gabrielle's nervous expression but walked in. There was no point in repeating it twice.

Inside, Ginny Weasley was sitting next to Bill, who was lying on a bed. They were both talking, laughing and crying at the same time. Mark approached them.

"There is some bad news." The mood dampened around him. Mark noted how Bill reached for his sister's hand and sighed in relief. "You need to brace yourself."

"Go ahead, Mark," said Ginny apprehensively. "The Wards are intact."

"Someone died in the last Order mission," said Mark, trying to break the news in bits. He saw Ginny's face harden. He hesitated. "It is Marcus Flint."

Mark saw Ginny's self control shatter at those words. But fortunately, there was no rippling effect on the wards. He sighed in relief when he saw Bill's hands rubbing his sister in comfort.

"H-How?" asked Ginny. She wasn't looking at Mark.

"Bellatrix Lestrange killed him. He fought with her, allowing his partner Daphne Greengrass to escape," said Mark.

He had expected Ginny to cry, perhaps be devastated. But to his amazement, she simply stood up and walked towards the door.

"Ginny," Bill called out.

"No," she whispered. "I need to be alone."

Mark bit his lips. He looked at Poppy Pomfrey, Gabrielle and Bill, and then sighed. "I'll go," he said, and was surprised when all three deferred to his authority. He turned around and followed Ginny softly. They walked out the castle to Dumbledore and Harry Potter's grave.

On discovering that Fawkes could transport corpses, Harry Potter's was the first that Ginny had demanded. Mark recalled the strength with which Ginny had treated the corpse with her own hands, fixing him as best as could be expected. Then they dug the grave and buried him. He wanted the same to be done to Marcus Flint's body, for nothing short of that would be deserving of the soul that had occupied it in the end.

"I killed him," Ginny whispered when she saw Mark beside her. "I killed him."

Mark looked at her blankly.

"I sent him away," she continued. "I broke his heart… I killed him…" Ginny was gazing at the grave of Harry Potter. She touched the tombstone gently. "Oh, Harry! You would be so disappointed with me!" she gasped, as if suddenly realizing something. "I made the same mistake again!" her voice was broken. "I allowed the words of a Death Eater to sway me into believing the worst of someone who had been nothing but wonderful to me… I did it again… how can I ever receive your forgiveness now?"

"You will receive his forgiveness," said Mark gently, slipping his fingers in her hand, "because he loves you as much as you love him."

She looked at Mark, but averted her gaze instantly. "How can you stand to be near me, Mark? You cared for him too… I made him go away, to his death…"

"Please don't cry, Professor Ginny," Mark sided against her, and Ginny wrapped her arms around the young boy.

"He stayed true to his oath until the end," Ginny wept. "He brought me back my niece and my brother. He saved my life… He brought me healing and love… And I killed him…" her voice was laced with grief and self-disgust.

Mark couldn't stand her grief any longer. "Professor, please listen to me," he pleaded. "This is very important. Marcus Flint's body is in the Hospital Wing. We will bury it, just as we buried Harry Potter. But please listen to me."

Ginny looked at the boy, waiting for him to continue.

"These bodies," he said slowly, "They are merely ash and dust… The body isn't what you loved… not for Harry and not for Marcus…"

Ginny swept back as if she were slapped.

"Please try to understand," Mark begged. "Please understand that there might come another, another body, and you might feel the same as you did with them…"

"Why must you be so horrid to me?" Ginny's eyes were glistening with tears. "I'm here, before Harry's grave, just been told of Marcus' death, and you're telling me to search someone else to love… why?"

"That's not what I meant," Mark looked tired. "I'm asking you to think… what was it that you loved about Harry?"

Ginny remained silent.

"Was it the same thing that you loved in Marcus?" he asked.

Ginny paused, but slowly nodded.

"Why can't you see it?" Mark cried out. "There's something about Marcus that made you see Harry in him…" he trailed off, knowing he should stop or Harry's secrets would come pouring out of him. He parted from the woman he'd begun to seen as a mix of an elder sister and an aunt.

He was tired. He couldn't do it. There were too many responsibilities on his shoulder. Ginny had to pull herself together on her own, or lean on someone else. It was beyond him.

"What I mean is… the worst thing you can do is to drive away the next person who reminds you of Harry," he whispered, and walked away.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9 - Intent, Power and Knowledge**

Magic wasn't all about knowledge, wand waving and spells. Harry was beginning to lose himself in the wonder of what could be achieved by true magic. Intent, Power and Knowledge were the three pillars on which true magic is built.

He recalled vividly the ease with which Voldemort, Dumbledore and Bellatrix seemed to cast magic. Voldemort hadn't needed a wand or a spell to silence Gabrielle Delacour. Dumbledore was adept in wandless magic. Bellatrix hadn't needed any shield to slap away his small curses.

Intent and Power were definitely the harder and taller of the three but all three were potent. One with enough power needed not the knowledge of books if their intent was clear. Similarly, one with knowledge needed not to rely on excess of power by using highly complex spells few would be aware of.

When he dug into Bellatrix Lestrange's memory and realized how Hermione had been tortured, Harry felt sickened. His mind blazed with fury and he realized just how truly powerful he was and how clear his intent could be. Without having to dig for any further memories, as they emerged of their own accord in the face of his fury, Harry charged upon the tormentors of his former best friend.

He had never expected himself to cast the Cruciatus Curse, but he did. Bellatrix had been correct in their duel in the Department of Mysteries. Knowledge was hardly sufficient. Harry had hardly lacked in that, what with Bartemius Crouch teaching dark arts during his fourth year in the guise of Alastor Moody. Power was hardly sufficient. Harry had it in bounds, having cast a Patronus Charm in his third year. Intent was what he had lacked. A clear, ruthless intention to cause pain.

The screams of Crabbe and Goyle eased his raging soul, but his disgust and hate never lessened. They had tormented Hermione for months. For months, they had her caged and chained, treated without the slightest of dignity.

He felt it when their minds snapped. It wasn't pleasant, not at all. He had hoped for some release. But torturing Crabbe and Goyle to insanity only made him feel the emptiness and self-disgust within himself. Yet, he wouldn't blame himself for doing it. Not this. He sliced their heads off their bodies. It was no less than what they deserved.

If his soul would face condemnation for what he had done to those two fiends, then he would gladly accept it. It would be his sacrifice to avenge the humiliation of one he had loved as a sister.

The Carrow brothers followed next. To them, he granted mercy. He killed them without wasting any time. The smell of blood was sickening. But Harry stayed on and gazed at their corpses for a long time.

A dozen lives he had taken since his mission with Daphne Greengrass, and it was merely the beginning. The war had gone on for too long without the Monarch facing his fair share of losses. The loss of mere prison guards and lackeys such Crabbe, Goyle and the Carrows would hardly be a severe blow to the Monarch, but perhaps it was best to begin slowly, to chip away at his power, while the resurrected Phoenix was still learning to spread its wings.

Fawkes hadn't come to him since he changed bodies, which made Harry wonder if the phoenix had to see him in person to perceive his actual presence. Harry trusted Mark to take care of things at his end. The boy was eerily similar to how he was at that age, except, Mark had seen more suffering and had grown faster. But Harry didn't let his thoughts linger too long on them. For that would remind him of Ginny, and his heart would clam in hunger.

No, he feared being in the presence of the girl he loved while still under Bellatrix Lestrange's blood thirst and apathy towards propriety in obtaining what she desired. He knew he would not be able to restrain himself.

Not only were his waking thoughts consumed by a desire to cause pain, but even his dreams were affected. Filled with lust and desire, Harry knew he had to find some way to reign in such emotions.

From Bellatrix's knowledge about magic and ancient curses, Harry knew better than to tempt fate and stage his own murder. Just as a werewolf had no choice over when he transformed from man to beast, Harry himself had little choice in when Dumbledore's Curse would suddenly fail to work.

Ancient magic had to run its own curse.

But the benefits were not to belittled. Harry had learnt more about dueling by watching memories of Bellatrix kill innocent men and women then he could have imagined. There was such discipline, such proficiency, such power. In fact, Bellatrix could give Voldemort a fair run for his money in a one-on-one duel, if Voldemort wasn't always quick to exploit her weakness and use the Imperius curse to bind her to his will.

Harry walked towards the forest where Fenrir Greyback had killed Ron Weasley and mauled scores of young children during a lifetime of violence. Harry shuddered when he saw from Bellatrix's memory an image of Nymphadora Tonks trying to futilely shield her son from the werewolf, while Bellatrix Lestrange dueled with Remus Lupin. Greyback killed them both.

No wonder, Lupin was consumed by anger and fury.

"Mistress Bellatrix."

Harry turned to the rough voice. The rugged form of Fenrir Greyback approached her, his eyes gazing at Bellatrix Lestrange's well-kept body with desire and lust. Harry tried not to show the disgust show in his face as not so pleasant images of the manner of liaison that the werewolf might be thinking of sprung up involuntarily in his mind.

"How kind of you to join us," roared Greyback. "At tonight's full moon, we attack Lupin's pack. I have heard the young Longbottom has joined them."

"The rest of your pack may go ahead," said Harry firmly. "Tonight, you and I have personal business to attend to."

Greyback frowned.

"Or do you dare question the wishes of the Monarch?" Harry hissed, and Greyback quailed under his glare.

"Of course not, Mistress," Greyback growled angrily, obviously he did mind it but knew better than to voice his objections. "Perhaps it is for the best. Both packs will be without their leaders."

Harry remained silent. He roamed around with his wand ready while Greyback barked orders to his people. From Bellatrix's memory, he had discovered the exact manner of revenge he wanted on Greyback for Ron. The werewolf would pay with more than his life, he would lose all his dignity.

"It is done, Mistress Bellatrix," said Greyback, joining her. "How may I serve you tonight? There is roughly half an hour before the transformation."

"Good." Harry turned around and walked swiftly, with the werewolf a few steps behind him. He kept walking, much to the werewolf's increasing anxiety and apprehension. Finally, he stopped in a part of the forest that was cleared up. Harry turned around, in his hand was no longer a wand, but a silver whip.

"You bitch!" Greyback screamed in terror and rage. "The Monarch swore he'd never -"

"I'm no longer bound to the Monarch's promises," Harry whispered grimly. "Tonight, you will die, Greyback. But before that, you will be tamed, like the measly mongrel you are."

Greyback's eyes glinted. "Why?"

"Why indeed," Harry muttered. "Isn't that going to hound you, you filthy mongrel, as I snatch away every ounce of defiance from you, as you have done to so many others? But you did that to humans, I'll do it to a wolf, whose very life is built around dominance."

Greyback's face became ghostly pale. "Don't…" But then his features started altering. It was time.

Harry took a step back and readied himself. He snapped the whip in the air, fully prepared to inflict the greatest humiliation possible to a werewolf.

In seconds, the wolf growled at Harry. Harry snapped the whip again, and the wolf leapt forward.

"You will obey me," Harry yelled, sending a lash against the wolf's front body - searing it with scorch marks as the silver burnt into the magical creature's body.

The wolf yelped and fell to the ground. But the next instant, it was back in the air, trying to maul the human.

"Ha!" Harry cried, when he felt the flesh on his arm being ripped by the monster. But he took that moment of closeness to coil the silver whip around the wolf's neck, making it howl in inhuman pain. In the next few minutes, the bodies of the human and the wolf rolled around in the dust, the wolf piercing the flesh several times, but Harry kept tightening the noose around the wolf's neck.

The reason why few humans attempted to tame a werewolf thus was because it was impossible to return without being infected. The proximity was simply too much of a risk. But Harry didn't particularly care. He dragged a struggling and yelping Greyback with the silver whip coiled around his neck.

"You worthless mongrel," Harry spat. He tightened the leash, making the wolf tremble with pain. The silver was affecting it. The werewolf wouldn't survive the night. But Harry intended the wolf to survive long enough to be completely broken in spirit. In a sudden flash, he removed the whip and sent a lash across its back. "You will bow before me."

The wolf whinnied, it tried to get up, but had lost its energy. Harry smirked. It was almost done. But before he could send another lash, a loud growl came from behind Harry, and he jumped aside, to see another wolf leap on Greyback, and in a swift motion, end its suffering.

"You took my revenge!" Harry spat, transforming the whip back to a wand. "Crucio." He kept the wolf under the curse.

Harry frowned when he saw the wolf trying to overcome the pain and support itself on its three limbs.

Then suddenly something flicked through Harry's memory. Bellatrix Lestrange dueling with someone… Slicing her opponent's arm off using a powerful curse, so that he could never cast magic with his right hand again… The pain, the humiliation…

Harry took a step back, disgusted at what he had done. "N-Neville?" His wand slipped from his fingers and he felt the wind being knocked out of him. He had cast an Unforgivable Curse on Neville Longbottom. He was turning into a monster.

His self-disgust returned in full blow when the live wolf in front of him chose that moment to transform back into the human, his onetime friend, shy and reliable Neville Longbottom. Harry looked at his glinting face and felt a new horror creep within him. He had to stop Neville.

"Don't, Neville, please…" Harry begged, taking another step back, but the wolf-turned-man had only one intent in his mind - to avenge himself of his parents' tormentor. "Don't kill me."

"Diffindo," Neville whispered. "Diffindo. Diffindo."

Harry closed his eyes in despair as the familiar sensation of being torn out of his body overwhelmed him. At some point, he could hear the screams from Bellatrix Lestrange's voice falling in his ear and he looked at the dying corpse in front of him with anguish.

"This shouldn't have happened!" Harry yelled in Neville's voice to the sky. "He was a good man! I should be the one dying, not Neville! Why can't I just die!" With tearful eyes, Harry knelt to the ground.

Bellatrix's eyes flickered, life ebbing out of them. Neville's final thoughtful and wondrous words were, "Is that you, H-Harry?" Harry's tears were response enough. "G-Give them hell, m-mate."

Harry wept as he saw a peaceful smile settle on Bellatrix's face as Neville's eyes closed and his breathing stopped.

"This shouldn't have happened," Harry mourned. "He shouldn't have been taken."

"_You -- murderer!"_

Harry stayed there for several long minutes before getting up. What had happened could not be undone, Dumbledore's Curse had claimed its third victim. Harry had to end it soon, for fear of who else it might claim. He had to talk to Dumbledore's portrait.

He took a step back and wiped his face. The time for mourning could be later.

"_Give them hell, mate."_

"I will," he whispered to the empty air, looking at the sight before him. The hulking form of Fenrir Greyback lay in one end of the clearing, while the sultry body of Bellatrix Lestrange in another. Standing tall between them was the one-armed Neville Longbottom, a grim and cold expression on his face.

Soon, he heard soft pops and turned around. Remus Lupin had arrived with the Order of the Phoenix and his own werewolf pack. Harry and Lupin's eyes met and then the older man raised his hand and touched his forehead. Neville's memory told Harry that this was a sign of respect between werewolf pack leaders.

Harry felt cold. Fenrir Greyback had been killed by werewolf wounds. The werewolf who killed him would become the new leader of Greyback's pack. Slowly, Harry raised his fingers and touched his forehead, matching Lupin's gesture. Harry had to stifle his guilt and disgust. The Monarch had to be dealt with, and Hogwart had to be protected, before he could afford time to selfish thoughts of guilt and remorse. History was being made, the two largest werewolf packs were to be forged into alliance.

Harry looked at the prone form of Bellatrix Lestrange and sighed. The least he could do was honor the memory of Neville Longbottom, make him a legend to be revered for ages to come. He would make sure Neville Longbottom would be remembered for his single handed defeat of two of the Monarch's most feared lieutenants.

He nodded at Lupin, indicating he was ready to leave, and walked towards the Order. Before apparating away with them, his final words breached the silence of the night.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."


End file.
